


A Woman

by Debz_Baumaus



Series: Lessons in Love [1]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Male Character, Drama & Romance, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Love Confessions, Love Triangles, M/M, Past Abuse, Platonic Romance, Post-Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2020-02-28 04:59:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 43,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18749500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debz_Baumaus/pseuds/Debz_Baumaus
Summary: It took a woman to give Madarame the decisive chance to strip off his own humanity and become a monster. Would this woman turn Yusuke into one too? Blind him and make him lose his true self, that he had obtained barely near a year before? Or would she bring him the hope that had started to dwindle?





	1. VISAGE

**Author's Note:**

> Even after all they’d been through as Phantom Thieves, Yusuke felt like he was going back to square one.

It’s June 5th. He’s survived one year since Madarame. He cannot confidently say his survival up until now has been entirely successful. If you’d asked him in February, he would’ve, without any hint of hesitation whatsoever, said yes, with pride swelling in his chest. 

It had been two very painful months without Akira, and the most extremely excruciating birthday he’d ever been forced to push through. He had found himself in an unending struggle, forgoing food and sleep to dedicate all his time to helping Akira be proven innocent. If he had time to breathe, he had time to save Akira. But he also kept remembering how those dark eyes became saddened when the ever-mysterious gentleman stumbled upon information of his lack of self-care (he was 100% sure Futaba kept tabs on him to snitch him out to their leader). 

The memory of that night, December 24th, constantly lurked in the back of his mind and kept replaying itself in a variety of nightmares. That night, he had stayed behind with the clear intention of finally confessing his feelings openly. It was obvious for all the Thieves that they had been playing a subtle (not so subtle) back and forth game of poetic flirting, and if the rest had been right, all their hangouts to dispel his dreaded art block had been the most clever way of Akira scoring dates with Yusuke without evoking the pressure of such important events. They all knew Yusuke was socially clueless, perhaps Akira had taken the most correct decision in the path to conquering Yusuke’s previously art-riddled mind.

So, when Akira came back to him in the form of a pure white canvas of skin, muddied with bruises and cuts, and offering himself so Yusuke could paint over the pain and, in its stead, cover every inch of him with pleasure, Yusuke had thought everything was completely resolved. Surely everything would be perfect from now on.

He should not have forgotten the lesson his life kept striking his head and heart with. He would always be on the losing end. He could fight the god of fate, but not his own destiny.

And Akira had even offered Yusuke the chance to stay with him in Tabiyama, even going as far as making an on-the-spot plan of alternatives (Yusuke and him could rent a place in Tabiyama so Yusuke could transfer schools, they could spend weekends together in Tokyo, take the very first train from Tabiyama and do the many line switches to commute to school every day). He appreciated the sentiment, but the scholarship and special education he received at Kosei were a huge help he’d be needing during his last year. They were seniors, they had shared unique experiences, they had fallen in love. They could certainly survive one year apart from one another.

But it was a lie.

It was barely June, and he had already started to go insane without Akira, in many ways. The first sign had been returning to his old habits. Not eating, not sleeping, not socializing. He rarely even had the energy to go and see the Sayuri. He needed to, but he knew that the moment he set his sights on Yongen Jaya, tread the same alleys he had so many times, heard the bell chime and Boss’s greeting, he would break. 

He could also not face his fellow ex-Thieves. Aside from all the memories that rushed through his head, that inevitably brought Akira’s existence and absence to the forefront of his mind, he couldn’t help but distort their feelings of friendship towards him, perceiving their kindness as pity towards him and his loss.

He knew they also hurt, they also longed, but he did so more than anyone. He hated to be so vulnerable. They did not share equal ground in their anguish. He hated that fact. His heart bled in his hand, out in the open, so soft and easily crushable. He could be torn by the smallest thing.

And that was what was currently happening. He was being split open in front of the world in the most mockingly disrespectful way.  
Kosei High’s Senior Talent Exhibition and his life was being talked down at.

“I heard you were the best talent Kosei had to offer to universities this year, a true prodigal, young artist. And this is what you dare present the world? Another one of your black and white boy pieces? Madarame might have been a thief, but I had always believed he had a good eye for variety. Or maybe you’re just caught in a heavy-set infatuation?”

He absolutely hated Chén Daí Yì.


	2. CHARCOAL EXHIBIT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had never hated her name until this moment in which she felt someone else robbed its meaning.

Curiosity had always led her in life, and it had been no different when it came to her accepting Japanese Kosei High’s sponsorship. She had always thought she’d leave Taiwan, but she figured it’d happen later on in her life, perhaps when she went to college, or when she finally got her work known overseas. 

Random postings of her emotion-driven explosions had, unexpectedly, taken her further than she’d ever thought so early in her life. She had thought her poems and rage-filled quotes would, at most, set other people's frustrations on flames or gain her haters who’d attack her gloomy, negative perceptions. But she was now enrolled in Kosei as the apprentice of the Literature Department’s Director, Kamiki Akinari. She would finally dabble in proper haiku and read the works of fellow-depressed-writer, Dazai Osamu. 

First, she had to learn Japanese, beyond what little words and phrases she had learned as an unashamed otaku. When her first day of school arrived, she had expected she’d be assigned to someone who would accompany her through the year, or at least until she had a decent enough grasp of the language. No, she’d been shoved to the most clueless guy she had ever met. He knew no languages besides Japanese, he apparently also didn’t know about basic of human behavior and interaction, and he almost always forgot he had to help her (seemed like he had no patience or time to spare for her, in spite of it being his duty).

Luckily, he was also so self-absorbed that he never noticed her following him around, like a baby chick following her mother hen. And she, surprisingly, wasn’t expected to be able to develop her academic skills in Japanese, either. Teachers and some other students would ask for her participation in either Mandarin or English (though she regretted having gone out of her way to learn European languages instead of Japanese, now).

She had come to be known as “Kitagawa’s Shadow”. She didn’t mind. It’s not as if she was as oblivious to life as he was. She could perfectly hang out with others, she had more interests beyond her writing, she was a good (and interesting) student. Still, she certainly, though covertly, enjoyed watching Yusuke work…until he reached the finishing touches of his pieces and revealed the face that seemed to haunt his mind, and now hers.

The same black eyes, the same black, curly hair, so many different smiles to go with his different emotions. And she was jealous. Jealous because not even his obligations toward her were enough to make him aware of her presence. Not even the complete absence of that face (she had checked, she did also follow Yusuke around the city, and he still never noticed) had driven him to dedicate a single second to her.

And in this way, two months had gone by. She was casual friends with Himiko, Hanako, Naomi, Ryotaro, Kenta… But her life still lacked Yusuke. Her heart lacked him.

And then the exhibition came. She had gone even further than ever before, creating visual pieces that went along with her words, a large variety of styles and colors that adorned her feelings. A crowd gathered around her display, her confession of love, she had known they were undeniably eye-catching. This time around, she said to herself, this time he’ll see me. Lo and behold, he had only stared at his own drawing, completely entranced by the charcoal boy.

And love pushed her to do a horrible thing. She loathed herself even before she harshly grasped at his jaw, turning his head forcefully toward her seething self.

“I heard you were the best talent Kosei had to offer to universities this year, a true prodigal, young artist. And this is what you dare present the world? Another one of your black and white boy pieces? Madarame might have been a thief, but I had always believed he had a good eye for variety. Or maybe you’re just caught in a heavy-set infatuation?” 

Chén Daí Yì absolutely hated herself.

 

Her name meant ancient, joyous charcoal beauty. That should’ve been her.

Now, she’d never be.


	3. BARE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even through the distance, Akira is still giving him lessons.

Chén Daí Yì, the Taiwanese transfer student. Of course, he had been aware of her constant presence, just over his shoulder, just inches from clinging from his arm, just slightly leaning towards his side, breathing close to his neck, inching her fingers towards his. He’d thought her rude and intruding, impolite for disregarding personal space and privacy. The others said he’d been like that (actually, still was like that, but his were artistic reasons). He’d never discussed her ever-present figure ghosting him until they’d all gathered to, begrudgingly for him, eat a Nostalgia Steak each and catch up.

They’d been especially worried for him. Haru had even offered him to just go live at her penthouse. She’d take care of the expenses, as long as they’d all be able to know what was going on with him, whether he ate properly and got enough sleep. Ryuji, on the other hand, had been worried about the girl who, non-discretely, observed Yusuke from a table behind theirs. (Thankfully, thought Yusuke, he was sitting with his back towards her.) She had a notepad in front of her, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she kept swaying her glance between Yusuke and whatever she was writing about, all while only sipping at a cup of coffee that must have gone cold at this point.

“Yes, I _do_ know who she is, though I do not, in fact, _know_ her. She’s a new transfer student in my class. Taiwanese, can’t understand what we’re saying, I believe.”

“She looks cute!” Ann, again, felt the need to point out another female beauty. Since she became more professional, she always felt the need to comment on other girls who might have potential.

“Welp, she’s a creep alright. Can’t even stalk you properly, Inari. Though, she looks like she’s drawing you, which would be hilariously ironic, considering you might’ve freaked plenty of people out that way before.”

“I dunno, but she seems lonely, man. Like when we first met you. Shouldn’t ya try and invite her over with us? Maybe Haru can talk to her, at least? I mean, she does know how to talk in many languages because of her status n' stuff.”

“That’s a great idea, Ryuji! Allow me to call her over, Yusuke-kun!”

He shook his head hard. “Please don’t. I’m not interested in making her acquaintance, much less since she so rudely attacked me and my work in a very unladylike and improper manner, and in front of everyone! I reckoned she spoke absolutely no Japanese since she had never uttered a word, but what little she knows seems to only be insults directed towards me.”

Silence took hold of the table, only the scratching of Daí Yì’s pencil running frantically across paper rang loud in the restaurant.

“Bro, what happened? What’d she tell you?”

“She very directly spoke ill of my talent, hinting at praise towards Madarame in spite of his plagiarizing, and declared I was a disappointment because of the work I chose to display at Kosei’s Talent Exhibit.”

Haru reached out her hand towards his, grasping his fingers, smiling sadly.

“Yusuke-kun, you said she hadn’t uttered a word, correct? And that she can’t understand what we’re saying? Have you considered that maybe she’s feeling lonely and abandoned in this foreign country and she might have wanted to get your attention? It seems to me that the way you reacted at the fact that she followed you here hints at this being a common occurrence. Is that true?”

He looked back at Daí Yì, and she immediately hid her face behind her pad with a nervous and sorrowful expression.

“I had never thought about why she followed me _everywhere_ , I was only meant to be her guide at school, but I just let her be since she never disrupted my daily activities.”

He went back, remembered what Ryuji had said. _She seemed lonely, then? Like I was before the Thieves, like when I was held under by Madarame._ And before he knew it, he stood and, with his best broken English, addressed her, “Want to eat with us? Here?” He gestured to the free space next to Haru. He hoped he wouldn't regret this.

Daí Yì looked like she’d been caught in the act for the first time, pale a second, red the next, and she crushed her pad towards her chest in fear. She abruptly stood, and with shaky, yet swift movements tore the page she’d been working on, bowed, smashed it in front of Yusuke on the table, and ran away.

When the Thieves looked down, a poem, decorated by multiple black swirls (which reminded him of his original _Desire_ painting) lay exposed in front of them. Yusuke hesitantly sat back down, and Ann read,

 

_“You are stuck in time,_

_And I cannot make you mine._

_Trapped in a monochrome_

_That you’ve made your home,_

_Held captive by a dark-eyed image._

_But I’m hypnotized by your visage_

_And the fingers that hold onto someone foreign._

_Yet, he is king, and he will reign._

_But it is still not fair_

_That I lay myself bare for your stare,_

_Yet you ignore my lines._

_I cannot bear_

_That I cannot make you mine.”_

He took back the paper, held it against the light, revealing a swirled-away portrait of Yusuke in a corner below the poem (written both in English and Japanese; she’d clearly gotten help from Kamiki-sensei). The drawing looked amateurish, but it was decently done. His heart wrenched.

Ann’s stare pierced through him. “Yusuke… Was your exhibition piece _another_ painting of Akira?”

He detected the concern and felt it was justified, yet his answer was as stubborn as his feelings for Joker, “It was a charcoal drawing, so no, not a painting.”

When he found his face slammed onto the table before him, held by an angry Skull (the action was beyond Ryuji himself), receiving angry yells from Futaba, he knew the trouble he was in was what he deserved.

**.**

**.**

**.**

_I told you I loved you too. We loved each other, thoroughly, passionately, sweetly, sincerely. I did not mean to rob you of your life. And I do not know if it’s better for you to move on and fall in love with someone else, someone you don’t depend on and cling to._

_I’m sorry, Yusuke._

_I **do** love you._

_But you should try and see other people, and make new friends. Broaden your world like a true artist._

_…Take care._


	4. GUARDIAN ANGELS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If love was going to be put at risk, at least they’d all make sure everything would be as painless as could be. But guilt riddled all.

Ryuji couldn’t say he ever truly understood Yusuke. Sure, he totally got why the dude got in that Madarame situation and all (he gotta admit that that Palace had been up there with Kamoshida’s when it came to how painful it was for his heart). Clearly, he also understood his loneliness, I mean, he had been shoved apart in school too, but he at least had mom. And, it was a given, Ryuji didn’t feel the same as Yusuke, but he totally couldn’t disagree with his love for Akira. If he hadn’t slowly started to realize that Ann meant more than only a sister to him as time went by, _shit_ , maybe he’d try to call dibs on him too. So, even if he never got in the art crap and composition whatevers, he sure became scared for them when he saw them both saying goodbye in Tabiyama.

For crying out loud, they _all_ felt as if the world was ending, but he knew that even if they hadn’t gone and started dating, even if there had never been romantic love and just a close friendship, Yusuke would be the one who would suffer the most because of the separation. He went to another school, didn’t have close friends outside the Thieves (sure, he was friends with Naoya Makigami, but that was kinda casual, so Ryuji kept on secretly planning to have him meet Hifumi and make them talk properly, goddammit), he didn’t have family, basically no one liked or understood the things he did (though he was kinda glad that Futaba or Haru still made it work between them, but Yusuke still put art first, that stupid pretty boy), and he had always had the worst self-care “habits” ever. Like, he was afraid he’d just sleep naked near the train station, all bones, no food, to make a point about Akira having left and talking nonsense about how his hope was gone.

And, fuck, did Ryuji just want to make him bunk with him, make him run in the morning before getting ready to go to school, meet up after school to eat, he’d even _try_ and go with him to spots so he could draw, he wanted to go buy groceries together and supervise him when he bought materials for art. With school and all the Thievery business, they all hadn’t actually got to bond as proper friends, not until Akira was taken in and they weren’t sure if Akechi would kill Akira or not. And even during and after that, they didn’t get to be as close and friendly as he wanted them to be. Sure, teens like them always made jokes, poked fun and shoved each other in embarrassment, but they had probably started off too rough and never gotten to smoothen things out well.

And Akira was his best bro, so if he thought as Yusuke as the person he loved, Ryuji would damn well do anything to make sure he and Yusuke became real friends. He would become the guy he’d tell things to while Akira was away, they could share their burdens.

So, tailing Yusuke for a while before he came up with a plan for how to approach him properly wasn’t as bad, right? I mean, Akira did make him promise.

. . .

“Sorry to call again, but I’m worried, kid. He hasn’t been here since April, and you know how he always is, coming here and staring at the painting. I thought he’d had come here already, but no luck. And Futaba-”

She obviously had to cling to his shoulder and shout right next to his ear, “Aki-bro! We have all tried to get him to hang out with us, and he only did once, and he ended up ranting about this stalker girl he has-”

“Futaba, stop yelling, and stop trying to take the phone away like that!” He pushed her back and sighed heavily. What the hell was that about? Yusuke and a stalker? “Kid, I don’t know about what Futaba just told you, but could you talk to him? I’m afraid he isn’t handling stuff too well. Maybe…you should’ve stayed here, you know? I mean. Just think about it, okay? You’re still in time, I think. Besides, I know your folks are barely home and things are still kinda tense over there.”

 _“I… get it. But I won’t.”_ A sigh, one that he didn’t want to hear from Akira again. _“You know I can’t keep running from my problems. If there’s something I learned with you all in Tokyo, as a Phantom Thief, is that I have to face fate. And…Yusuke has to grow. He has to finish learning he doesn’t actually need anyone. You get me?”_

He couldn’t help but smile sadly to himself. _And to think he thought they’d sent him a random, irresponsible punk._ Here he was, months away from turning 18, and he was giving Sojiro lessons for life.

“Yeah, I do. Take care of yourself. And… him too.”

He already felt the weight of their pain weighing down on him.

. . .

“Yeah, this girl, he said she was an exchange student? And she sorta confessed to him in front of all of us! I tell you, it was like something out of those Shoujō mangas!”

He didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t feel jealous (he was not possessive like that, he was more of a physically possessive guy, all cuddles and biting and whatnot), he was more, like, afraid of losing him. Not that he thought he would, not to that girl at least (and not that he wanted to make that decision for Yusuke either). He felt he was losing Yusuke to grief.

He wasn’t even dead, but Yusuke was grieving Akira. And the red string that threaded itself around his heart pulled, enclosing the muscle tightly, making it bleed. The string would be there forever, but as he had learned in the Velvet Room, sometimes they were meant to let loose.

And he would do just that, give Yusuke back his freedom. They hadn’t fought against Yusuke’s fate, defeated his dreadful and fake sensei, all to have Yusuke cling to the next person he could. He was sure they were soulmates, but for now, Yusuke had to learn what true love really was. Beyond facing his own morals and thoughts, Yusuke had to face _himself_ , and finally fall in love with the fox he had discovered within. _Maybe then he would start eating properly, for the sake of himself._ Akira giggled. The tenderness Yusuke filled him with would not go away, but this was a step they had to take in order to secure their futures together, in order to be together happily and healthily when they grew up.

He grabbed his phone, clicked away from Futaba’s string of texts with random cliché love references, and clicked on Yusuke’s icon. The last messages they had exchanged were from around two weeks ago. Akira had grown worried and curious because of the lack of “good morning” and “good night” texts, when he actually had been accustomed, before that, to falling asleep to Yusuke’s voice on the phone or voice recordings the artist sent as if he was keeping an audio biographical journal of his every waking moment. He had asked if the gang had met up, if he could see a picture of his latest painting, if he was sleeping and eating as he should. He only replied saying he needn’t worry, that he was fine as long as his heart kept beating for his love for Akira. Nothing else.

He was glad that Morgana was taking his time prowling. The tears were already starting to escape his eyelashes, so many times kissed by soft lips.

 

_I told you I loved you too. We loved each other, thoroughly, passionately, sweetly, sincerely. I did not mean to rob you of your life. And I do not know if it’s better for you to move on and fall in love with someone else, someone you don’t depend on and cling to._

_I want you to love yourself first. Be selfish. And do this, not for me, for **you**._

_I’m sorry, Yusuke._

_I **do** love you._

_But you should try and see other people, and make new friends. Broaden your world like a true artist._

_…Take care._

. . .

The moment Yusuke crashed through their front door, she knew something was wrong. More than wrong. Wrong didn’t even begin to describe what she saw. She swore Yusuke was having a stroke or something. It seemed Sojiro thought so too.

“Yusuke..?”  _When was the last time she had called him by his name?_

“Kid! Yusuke! Wha-?! Breathe, dammit!”

Sojiro had all but stumbled towards Yusuke, who just crashed in the Genkan, sobs wracking his bony self, tears running wildly, uncontained down his face, staining his clothes, as well as some scattered crescents of blood subtly blooming from beneath his sleeves.

She had not known Yusuke during his Madarame phase, but she would bet everything that even then he hadn’t allowed himself to be so broken in public. She approached slowly, didn’t know what to do, how to feel. She really thought he’d be dead in seconds, and there was nothing she could do.

“W-want me to call the doc-tor?”

Yusuke shook his head violently and uncurled slightly. Then they noticed, he clutched a portrait of Akira, gashes of blood steaking randomly over the drawing.

“H-h-hee. H-he l-l-effft m-meee!” The whimpered, choked words made them pale.

“I-I-I’ll g-go fetch Takemi, dad! S-stay here! I’ll call the others!”

For the first time, she felt upset towards Akira, and wanted to bear-hug Yusuke until they both couldn’t breathe and the world couldn’t hurt them anymore.

. . .

It was 10 p.m. and he was heading home after another day in which he had tailed Yusuke to the park and back to Kosei. He still didn’t know how or where to start. He was afraid he’d be rejected, kinda expected it, to be honest. They were complete opposites, but he still cared.

And Akira had texted him a little while ago. _Remember what you promised me._ He did remember, dammit! Man, how did Akira keep being such a psychic?! Damn, he could even admit that, even without his promise to Akira, or the whole being best friends with him and looking out for their boyfriend-hood, he still would’ve felt this need to just bro-hug the hell outta Yusuke and shove all the beef bowls he could into him.

His cell rang again with his message tone. Was Akira also aware of his most recent and embarrassing thought and planned on teasing him? But, no. His heart only felt empty and burning cold at the same time.

_Ryuji! Akira broke up with Yusuke._

_He barged through the door crying. Think he’s hyperventilating._

_I think he hurt himself a bit, too. Nothing extreme, tho. Still, fetching Takemi._

_Have everyone come to my house ASAP!_

He’d failed already. He couldn’t keep his promise. He didn’t protect his friend.

. . .

He was as good as dead. There was nothing left. Not art, not inspiration, nothing. He was only a shell of himself again. He wasn’t worthy. He was sure, if the Metaverse still existed, a Palace of his own cognition would have been born the moment he read those words.

_We loved each other, thoroughly, passionately, sweetly, sincerely. I did not mean to rob you of your life._

Why would he even think that?! Had someone told him something out of context? Had he miscommunicated again? Maybe his friends could fix this, still!

_I want you to love yourself first. Be selfish. And do this, not for me, for **you**. Broaden your world like a true artist._

So what? He had been an artist long before they met, but how could he keep being himself without the person who’d defined him, who led him to his path?

… _depend on and cling to._

_I’m sorry, Yusuke._

_I **do** love you._

**"Bullshit!”**

He was only half-aware of his surroundings. He felt fingers prodding his mouth open by force, softly yanking his head back, fingertips dragging his eyes open, but he could register nothing but grey blurs, a hand massaging his back, a constant hum of distant words. His heart burned, couldn’t stop its erratic beating. It was trying to run away from him and on to Tabiyama. He wanted to follow too.

And everything became still.

.

.

.

He woke up, huddled in blankets, a cold, wet rag on his forehead, fingers combing his hair, others grasping his, others stroking his cheeks, others rubbing his arm. A head was pressed to his side, at his waist. The rag was lifted, he heard water trickling, the rag was placed again. His eyes open.

The first thing that greeted him was Futaba’s tears.

“Yusuke!”

She lifted her head from his waist, stopped stroking his harm, threw herself over him and clung to his neck, burying her face on his shoulder.

“You dummy! I thought you would die! I thought you-you were leaving me behind too! I wanted to go with you!”

He looked up from the head of orange, up to the tired surrender that veiled Boss’s face. He hadn’t drunk or eaten in some time, but he still felt the water coming. A kiss landed on his hairline, and he met Ann’s watery eyes, still brushing through his blue strands.

“Please. Please, don’t ever do that again. Please, just… Trust us, Yusuke. We’re here, too.”

“Ann-”

“I won’t forgive you again. _I_ decided to save you. _I_ pushed, insisted to do _anything_ to free you. Don’t you _dare_ waste that. Don’t you ever _dare_ waste yourself away.”

The hand that cupped his cheek turned his head towards Haru’s tears, next to Ryuji’s ones; he gripped his hand tighter. Haru sighed gently, “Yusuke, we love you too.” And Ryuji nodded vigorously, his hold on Yusuke’s hand edging to painful. “We might not say it all the time, but we as hell show it to each other. So, don’t go busting yourself, man. Or, I swear I’ll drag you out and around until your head’s back to where it should be. Back here, with us.”

He never thought he would ever see Ryuji cry in his life, much less with tears for him.

Sojiro sighed, and suddenly, for the first time, he sounds and looks as old as he might be. “You should all stay here tonight. Camp it out around the sofa. I’ll go fetch the futons.”

. . .

And in a dark room, alone, ripped papers were strewn, ink covered the once white floors, words lay broken, and Daí Yì clung to her pillow, hair days unwashed, sobs splitting her body like lightning.

“Y-Yu-Yuuu-sukee…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy the different perspectives, everyone! I must make it clear, in case you didn't check the tags, that Makoto won't appear much in this story, at least not beyond texts. She will, though, in the second story of this series. I've always felt that, organically, she can't deal with highly emotional situations the way that would fit best for Yusuke's way of being (the dancing game made that very clear), and she fits rational people like Akira, Sae, and Akechi much better, so, until the next story, which is still a long way to go, she won't be here. Sorry!
> 
> Another thing, my OC /will/ become more involved and more important in the whole plot as the story progresses, but I like realistic and natural situations, so this will take a while. (This is not only slow burn, it's an extremely slow burn.) 
> 
> And! Yeah, when Akira "says" they're soulmates, they truly are, so don't worry, they will be together (until the second story, though), but life has to become complicated before that happens.
> 
> If you have any sort of constructive feedback, please share in the comments!
> 
> (Not fun fact: People can die of heartbreak, scientifically proven. But, don't worry, no one dies here. Though, Akechi is already dead.)


	5. HOLLOW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The good thing about emptiness is that it leaves space to be filled, and it’s especially gratifying to refill it with someone who is also as empty as you.

A week of camping followed, of huddles and a distant warmth, not enough to chase away the chill from bone, but enough to regain a semblance of liveliness, enough to pretend he wasn’t dead. It took a week of dazed gazing at the TV to watch Featherman with Futaba and Ryuji, several bowls of soup with melting potato Jagariko (they had tried curry and coffee, it obviously brought the opposite of comfort), multiple flower bouquets and homemade salads courtesy of Haru, and more than the necessary offers from Ann to pose for him before Sojiro took him to Takemi again, get a checkup, be deemed healthy, and be set free to return to Kosei if he so wished. The obvious condition was to at least see any of them in person 3 times each week, text at least a good morning to someone every day, and seek Takemi if needed.

And thus, Ann and Haru basically proceeded to “adopt” Yusuke; Ann would play sweet, overbearing older sister, while Haru would play mom.

“Hurry up! The easel is not going anywhere, but you sure as hell are!”

“But Ann, I must finish this project for next week.”

Yusuke knew she was stubborn, she had gone as far as setting the nude painting plan for his wellbeing, so she still couldn’t understand why he still insisted on resisting. She was not backing out.

“Gosh, Yusuke! It’s Saturday evening, and I already have everything planned out! First, we’re going to the underground mall to get a makeup set especially for you. One that has daylight colors, another for night colors, and an extra in case you want to go artsy and want to do face paint for kabuki or even cosplay, I dunno. Then! We are going shopping for new clothes; you have to get out of your comfort zone, even get outfits for college interviews. You already look older, but, imagine, dressing like an adult celebrity. Even more eye-catching than usual! So gorgeous, I can already picture it! Then, we’re going for sushi and dessert, and last, the movies! They’re re-screening In the Woods this weekend, and from what I’ve heard, you’d adore it. Plus, you can’t say no if I’m treating you to _everything_. You hear me? Everything. Free.”

“How do you possibly believe I’ll allow you to cover for such huge expenses on your own! I-“

She lifts her hand right in front of his face.

“I did extra gigs last month and even modeled for some tourists, so I got to charge a bit extra. Don’t worry!”

He stared at her. The guilt kept creeping, looming bigger and bigger above him. He felt like his friends’ charity case. He knew it wasn’t out of pity, but still… Then he looked in her eyes, they were trembling.

“I agree, then. But, at least let me pay at the cinema. I wouldn’t want you to pay, in case you do not enjoy the movie.”

She frowned, then smiled lightly and let trickle out the beginning of a laugh.

“I am sure I’ll like it. It has an amazing cast! But, I know that you don’t like to just take and take from us, which you actually don’t. We _offer_.” She stepped closer, got on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a tender, soft kiss to his cheek for some seconds, then nuzzled his neck. “We really love you, Yusuke. We are your family, whether you like it or not.” She grinned and chuckled softly, “Even Morgana and Ryuji are your family. They really care.” Her grin widened when she felt, more than heard, the rumble of Yusuke’s low chuckle while his arms wrapped around her shoulders. “Thank you, Ann. Truly.”

They stepped away, and Ann wrapped her arm around his to pull him out and away from the Art Room and Kōsei, though as they climbed down the stairs to the first floor, she noticed a shadow disappearing and a memory bubbled up in her mind. “Yusuke? Have you heard from that girl that was following you again?” His eyes glazed in remembrance and concern, “Now that you mention it, she has not been to class since. It’s been a bit more than two weeks. I hope-. I don’t want it to be my fault. I now know the pain of…” The word rejection was better left unsaid. “I at least want to try and get to know her, now. It feels unfair to not even try and make her acquaintance when she was so genuine and brave through her poem. I cannot hold her anger against her. If I learned anything from…him, and from your comments, is that I was being unhealthy.” Not only physically, but mentally.

The train was not crowded, and the extra space among the people in the train car also allowed more space for him to think. “Ann, I have made a decision. I will try and befriend Daí Yì on my own. I want to do something by myself, without any guidance or external help, no influence that might make me stray. I will be myself, I will become myself once again, as I hadn’t before, as I wasn’t able to after Madarame. And once I become my own person, I hope I can prove to Akira and to myself that I can live for me. I don’t want to run away from my struggle anymore.”

_But it hurt, infinitely so. He understood what he had to do, he had understood it for years. But he had never known how. And he didn’t believe himself brave enough to do so._

Her fingers tangled with his. “You can do it, Fox. You’ve always been able to.”

And that name resounded in his chest, allowing the blood to flow through his heart for the first time in weeks.

.

.

.

She had to gasp. She couldn’t help it. Ann had been right, the most beautiful person among the Phantom Thieves, even if they counted Akechi-kun, was Yusuke Kitagawa. All the brand clothes her father had filled her closet with would never mean anything against his natural beauty, but this!

“Yusuke-kun! You’re stunning! Oh, I must take a picture!”

Ann laughed as Haru stumbled through her room to get her Polaroid.

“Right? Didn’t we make the best choices? Told you, Yusuke, it _is_ noticeable! You look lovely!”

Haru steadied her hands, focused, and the flash went off in the room. She left the picture aside while the image appeared and took out her phone to snap more pictures, this time to share on their group chat (the newest one, named Skulk).

[Image Sent](https://i.blogs.es/6f5815/anne-catherine-frey-3/1366_2000.jpg)  ***See first image for reference.**

“I swear you are both exaggerating this. Your perception is out of proportion, and you magnify this to a scale of ridicule.”

Ann rolled her eyes at him. “Yusuke, I lost count of how many men and women were practically drooling after you in Shibuya! I mean, if that’s not enough proof-“

He put a hand to his hip, staring down at her dubiously. Well, Haru had to admit to herself, even she felt weak right now. The vision of Yusuke in a large, soft, fleece baby blue sweater that hung from him like an oversized dress, and his silver, low heeled shoes brought more attention to his legs than his usual tight-fitted leather pants and heeled boots. And the light silver shade on his eyelids that shined brighter thanks to his eyeliner and mascara (I mean, he had the longest eyelashes ever, and now the mascara!). Not mentioning the pastel pink lip gloss. He looked so huggable, vulnerable, sweet, dare she think, kissable, too. If Yusuke normally looked like an angel, he now left them in shame. His elegance paired with this amount of adorableness…

**_> OMG! _ **

**_>  _**°Д°

_**>** I **nari! His sexiness level is over 9000!!!**_

Well, it seems Futaba just described what she felt.

“Yusuke-kun, being so beautiful must be a sin. No, actually, it makes you look holy,” Ann giggled wickedly.

Another message.

 ** _>  _**(꒪ཀ꒪)

_**> Does it make me gay too that I’m nosebleeding at this?** _

_**> Holy shit** _

Ann giggled at Ryuji's reaction, and Yusuke blushed, swaying in a flustered mess.

 _ **I’m pretty sure you’d only be gay if Yusuke had your blood rushing somewhere else.**_ ;) ;) _**<**_

Now, Yusuke basically fainted on the chair Haru had in front of her mirror. Oh, boy…

_**(Ryuji) >Ann! ** _

**_(Ryuji) >…_ **

_**(Ryuji) >No, it didn’t happen! I checked!** _

Ann bursts in laughter.

_**> The fact that you had to check… Bwahahahahaha!** _

_**(Ryuji) >Shut up, Futaba! I mean, even if I’m straight, I have always been able to tell that Yusuke is very pretty…** _

Ann sent an audio message, “And you know? I bought white stockings for him to wear with that outfit, but he said he’d be too warm in this weather.”

_**(Ryuji) >…** _

_**>  **_( *∀*) **fufufufu! Garter stockings?**

 _ **(Ryuji) > **_(꒪ཀ꒪) **_Futaba! I swear, man! You’ll be the end of me!_**

 _ **>  You mean Yusuke will be! Fufufufu!** _^m^

“A-anyway, Yusuke-kun, Ann and I thought you should sleep over. We can have a slumber party, just the three of us! Besides food, I’ve been trying to use herbs, flowers, and other plants to make my personal organic beauty products, and I’d like you to try them with me so I can improve.”

Pale, Yusuke lifted his head, “I would very much like that, yes. Anything to support your endeavors, my dear.” His eyes fell, downcast. “I think she’d like to be here,” he whispered.

Ann stopped laughing at the chat and brought her attention back to their conversation, “You mean that girl, Daí Yì?” He nods, “I believe doing something relaxing and distracting, such as having a girl’s night, if you will, would really benefit her. And maybe that way we could…bond.”

Haru hadn’t known Yusuke had begun to worry about her, but in the end, Yusuke was one of them, and even though he was slower to open up, it was natural of him to be caring. “What if we ask Futaba to contact her? If she agrees, I can send a car to pick her up and bring her here.”

Yusuke’s eyes gleamed in gratefulness. “Yes, please. Thank you very much for your immense courteousness, Haru. You keep surpassing your own generosity and kindness each time.”

As she giggled, another message came in the chat.

_**> Already on it! Lucky you, I had been curious and pinned her location and number since we met her last time. Kekeke** _

****

. . .

 

Her blessings were counted. Her curses were plenty. She didn’t know for sure whether her fear of pain was a blessing or a curse, but she proceeded to stab her notebook instead of herself (not for the lack of temptation for the former). And she could finally do it freely, messily, noisily. There was no family, pet or friend to stop her here, not here, miles and miles away from home.

It was the first time she had thought of that place like home. Not that it was awful. On the contrary, she’d had no feelings for it. It was all so regular, neutral, normal. She had never felt attached nor detached. She felt neither comfort nor discomfort. It was school that had been a problem. The people. The stupid, heartless intolerant and judgmental words and gazes directed at her.

Now, she was alone. She had made casual acquaintances, she sometimes accompanied her friends on some outings, but she never could be herself, not entirely. She knew that the girls wouldn’t understand anything beyond the most popular (most bland) media trends, preferring to talk about makeup brands over Monet or preferring trash romance novels over Hamlet. The only potential friend she’d found had gone from completely ignoring her existence to outright hating her, and it was all her fault. At least she had pets at home, here, she couldn’t afford to have any, both because of financial and emotional reasons. She just couldn’t leave an animal behind only after a year. Plus, the building she lived in currently didn't allow them, either.

And then… Well, if Yusuke had actually become something of hers, anything, she still would’ve had to say goodbye when the year was over, wouldn’t she? She was being ridiculous, irrational, childish, just wanting, wanting, wanting. It wasn’t fair to him, or her. Confusion and numbness took over her mind, the words escaped her as her feelings did, and she could only bring her hand down over and over again in a seamless rhythm, a trance of self-hate.

A soft song crept into her mind and the trance was broken. The soothing song of her favorite soundtrack, one that she and her mom had sung the few times they spent together in rainy afternoons, made her heart startle in recognition.

 _天氣_ _真_ _好_ _陽光_ _真_ _閃耀_

 _天際線_ _堆疊_ _低至高_ _仰望_ _的人_ _很少_

And she sang along to **52 Hz, I Love You** , hoping that it was her family calling as she reached out to her phone, her pain forgotten in a beat.

“Wéi?”

Instead of hearing her mom’s sweet yet rough voice, a shy, squeaky one spoke a greeting in a stutter, “Um, uh, hi! Hehe, I’m a friend of your classmate, Kitagawa Yusuke? Yeah, um, one of the girls in the restaurant…”

Her heart almost stopped, “Oh! Konbanwa! Daí Yì speaking. I am very sorry about what I did. I promise I’ll stay away from him…”

“No! No, wait!” The girl sounded desperate as if grasping for words and switched to English, “Yusuke actually feels bad. He  _did_ notice you, it’s just that he’s been having a hard time about someone he really cares about. But, he wants to make things right and apologize, maybe even try and become friends with you.”

She couldn’t believe it. Was this a prank? Were his friends trying to mock her, humiliate her to make her understand what she’d done? “I’m not sure-”

“So, he’s invited you to a slumber party with some of our friends.” The girl grumbled into the phone, “I’m not going because I hate that kinda extra girly stuff. Just gonna play dating sims with Ryuji…” She sighed and continued, “But Yusuke wants to get to know you, so be ready, a car is fetching you in five minutes!”

She gasped. It’s past ten at night, and an unknown car was coming over to her place and getting her?! “H-how did you-?”

The girl giggled manically. Did Yusuke like this kind of aggressive, crazy people? He, who was so soft-mannered? “Now, chop, chop! You have to be ready! Bye!”

She was definitely nervous now. Would they get rid of her? She had heard of awful pranks taken too far among students. Would Yusuke send her off for good with very harsh words? She could only feel that she was heading to a worst-case-scenario, but if there was just a small chance that the girl was saying the truth…she would give them an opportunity.

“Wait, slumber party… Pajamas…” Her face lighted up in reds. “He’s going to see me like that?! Uh, no way! And in front of strangers?!” _I’ll just take my jogging gear, casual clothes, and all my toiletries. Not risking it… Maybe some self-defense stuff too._

She bound down the stairs, and her pain laid forgotten in the form of a stabbed notebook.

 

. . .

 

“She’s on her way.” Haru smiled at him, clearly to give him confidence. “I think I was too mean to her, do you think this will work out?” Ann sighed heavily, “You know I will always support you, Yusuke, but this will only work if you’re entirely honest and genuine towards her. So, if you really want to do this, you have to do it for you and her, not for Akira.”

“I did feel bad at the restaurant. I know-”

She stared at him fiercely, “Do you really? Because it seems to me that for the last few months, all your world has revolved around him. That’s what got you in this mess in the first place.” She took a deep breath, and smiled at him sadly, reaching out and tangling her fingers in his, “Yusuke, you have to live for yourself, that’s what you must do. So, stop trying to act to please others. If not… You never know when another Madarame might come around and into your life again.”

He straightened himself, offended, “I believe I learned my lesson well enough. I don’t need to be reminded of all that when I suffered it first-hand.”

Haru tilted his head up so he could see the concern in her eyes, “But you’re acting the same, only that, in this case, with Akira. You’re willingly giving yourself up. And yes, love has lots of giving, but it’s not only that. The same happens with friendships. We are your friends, we have been so for some time, but there’s only so much we can do, so far we can go if you do not let us in, Yusuke-kun.”

Ann reached up to accommodate his bangs behind his ear, “You know, this really will work awesomely if you try hard to see her for who she is. I think that, emotionally, she may be very similar to you. Try to see yourself in her and you’ll come to understand her.”

A knock.

“She’s here!” Haru walks towards the door with a little skip in her steps. She turns around with a sweet, empathetic smile. “Are you ready, Yusuke?”

He was blessed. His friends were guardian angels that kept his life from running off its course. “I am.”

And there, swallowed up by the darkness, stood Daí Yì in plain jeans, a slightly baggy plain grey shirt, her short bob a mess, and most noticeably, bags under her red-rimmed eyes. Was it his fault that she looked so much less than her usual, persistent self?

“Hello! I am Haru and that girl over there is Ann. It’s nice to meet you properly this time.”

Daí Yì only bowed awkwardly towards her, perhaps surprised at Haru’s slow but accurate Mandarin.

“Don’t worry, we do not intend to harm you. I only know a bit of Mandarin, but Ann and I are fluent in English. So, if it’s alright with you, we can speak in English.”

Daí Yì’s expression and body language relaxed a bit from her stiffness, “Yes. Thank you.”

Ann giggled, “Gosh! You even sound cute!”

Daí Yì blushed and glanced at Yusuke, “But, isn’t he bad at English?”

Yusuke smiled at her. To think she’d be considerate to him even after their discord. “I can understand most of it when spoken slowly, but I can’t talk much nor read it.” He now knew she could somewhat understand spoken Japanese, perhaps they could make it work in the meantime. _I do need to catch up and work on my English; though I’d rather speak Italian or French, it’s a modern necessity, now._

Haru guided Daí Yì further into her room, making her sit on her bench. Daí Yì shyly cleared her throat, “So, was it you that called me, Ann-san? I was very confused and startled at being called out of the blue, mainly because the idea of Kitagawa-kun inviting me anywhere just sounded like I was being chosen as the next victim for an awful prank.”

Ann’s eyes widened in nervousness as she shook her hands in front of her face. “No! What?! Okay, it wasn’t me who called, it was another friend of ours. And, as Haru said, we don’t mean to do anything bad. I know we kinda put you on the spot back in the restaurant, and Yusuke explained to us how you transferred from Taiwan but have basically avoided making close friends, because of you not knowing Japanese. _And_ ,” Ann proceeded to glare at Yusuke, “We understand how mean Yusuke has been to you,” _(Hey!)_ Ann rolled her eyes, “So we wanted to try and be friends with you, make it up to you, and even Yusuke wanted to try and not be douchy this time around.” She elbowed him harshly in the ribs, and he couldn’t help but gasp in pain as he shrunk into himself to get away from her abuse. But the point came across.

“Daí Yì, I am truly sorry for the dismissive way I have treated you so far. I tend to be blatantly and unashamedly myself, and I have always lived accustomed to solitude, so believe me when I say it comes more natural to me to ignore people than to interact with others. I have mostly been dismissed myself because of my so-called weird and extravagant mannerisms, but still, that does not excuse my rude behavior towards you. At the very least, as an honors student, I should have helped make you feel welcome in our country and in our school. Alas, I did nothing but set you aside, too focused on my personal frustrations. And…” Yusuke looked sadly at Haru and Ann, who translated along, “And I did the same to all of you, my dearest friends. I am sorry for having let myself be consumed in my self-absorbed reverie. I realize now that there are things I must change in myself.” He bowed down to the ground in front of Daí Yì and the others, “Please, have patience with me and stay by my side as I strive to change my heart.”

Daí Yì stared in awe with tearful eyes that trembled in compassion. She wouldn’t let another tear fall for him, not yet, but she did feel she wanted to support him. He was being transparent, and how she wanted that for herself. She kneeled in front of him on the floor and grasped at his shoulders, “I understand. I want to change too. I am so lonely, so empty, and I try to cling to the first sign of hope, to the first sign of someone that just might understand me. I do not want to depend on anyone, but I do want help. And I was right, you _are_ like me.” She threw her arms around his neck as he kept bowing, the top of his head now resting next to her chest, and he felt her heart beat with determination. “Let’s help each other, Yusuke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like how it's going. From here on it's a slow build-up of friendship. Romance is still far away, but I want it to take time and be as organic as possible.  
> If you want to comment on things I can improve, feel free to do so. I am not accustomed to writing conversations, so if you have tips on that, I'd gladly take them.


	6. REFRACTION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We may reflect a lot of each other, almost mirrored images to one another, but we are lost in the refraction, broken up into fractions of different colors, yet all light.

After drinking tea and snacking on some sweet cakes in a comfortable, relieving silence, she couldn’t hold her tongue anymore. Perhaps this wasn’t the best moment for the rest of them, but she needed to know, “Kitagawa-kun, I want to know who the boy is. The one that appears in every artwork of yours.”

Ann’s hand froze just atop one of the last sweets, Haru lowered the cup that she had just lifted to her lips with downcast eyes, and Yusuke choked in a gulp of his tea, clearly startled. After some light coughing to clear his throat, he inhaled sharply, a hint of trembling to his breath. “He was- He is the man I love, my former boyfriend.”

Daí Yì felt guilt and embarrassment wash over her. She nibbled at her lip nervously and picked at the skin around her nails; habits die hard, and her very subtle self-harming ticks had stuck to her without people giving much notice to them. She raked her eyes over Yusuke, only now drinking in the view of him in his outfit. _Is it new? I hadn’t seen him wear it. He looks even more fragile and vulnerable than normal, so frail. Though it might also be that,_ “I had always wondered about it. You basically only use his likeness, but I had never seen him around you. I wondered if he perhaps was only a dream of yours, an imaginary ideal. So he is the person that stole your heart, but you are not together anymore.” She shook her head, she didn’t know anything about this mysterious monochrome boy, but he seemed to be extremely special if he managed to get Yusuke’s attention. If he was, why would they have separated? It seemed Yusuke wasn’t the one who took such actions.

“I may know nothing about you two, but I can’t understand what kind of person would want to break up with you or why… Ah! Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude or rekindle your hurt.” She stared at her hands, gripped them tightly. She had been lowering her voice to a mumble. She whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Haru got up from her chair after a couple of minutes of silence. Daí Yì hadn’t dared to look at Yusuke’s face in a very long while. “Why don’t we get comfortable? Let’s change into our sleepwear and maybe watch a movie.” Ann stood after her, “Yeah! I want to freshen up a bit before getting cozy. What movies do you like, Daí Yì?”

She slowly stood, “Um, I’m very picky, actually. You don’t have to mind me, you can choose.”

Haru giggled, “Well, the point of tonight is getting to know you, so it’s only fair that you get to choose. Whether we like the same things or not doesn’t matter, besides, the next times, someone else will get to choose.”

Yusuke stood, his eyes glazed as if he was reminiscing painful memories. _It was selfish of me to have brought up that boy._ “I will go to the guest room’s bathroom to give you your privacies. Excuse me.”

Their eyes followed his lanky form, slightly hunched over as if emotionally drained and defeated. The guilt kept on growing. The door shut behind him as he stepped into the dark. A shiver ran down her nape.

“Well, let’s get changed then. Daí Yì, did you bring what you need?” She fumbled, looking for her bag and fetching it from near the door. “Y-yes!” She opened it, feeling intimidated by their curious glances. She proceeded to take out her grey, baggy sweatpants and worn, large, black t-shirt, a small hairbrush, a Ziploc bag that held her bamboo toothbrush, and a small cream bottle.

Haru hid a grin behind her hand, “Oh, dear… Daí Yì, why don’t you borrow one of my pajamas?” She looked at her confused, “But, Haru-san, this is fine. I promise I won’t complain because of the heat, I have been known to wear sweaters even in summer.”

Haru shook her head, revealing her grin before walking out of the room. Ann giggled and grabbed Daí Yì’s shoulders, turning her around while she examined her. “Daí Yì, Yusuke might not like you now, but that doesn’t mean a girl shouldn’t put an effort in making her crush swoon. You gotta take the chance while he’s still single. Put some oomph into it!” _Do they really want to pair up their friend with a stranger like me? Someone they know **stalked** him?  _“But, Ann-san, doesn’t Kitagawa-kun only like boys?”

Ann let go of her and stroke a pensive pose. “I don’t think it matters to him. I think he would just fall in love if he fell in sync with the person. Know what I mean? As long as they share the same wavelength about art and morale, I don’t think he’ll discriminate between genders or sexes. Yusuke feels more of a heart and mind kinda love.”

“I see. It makes sense.” She fidgeted insecurely, the memories of multiple black and white portraits running through her mind. “But that boy, even I can tell he’s gorgeous, and he has a strong presence. An otherworldly aura, if you will.”

 _(_ Ann burst into laughter, “That’s Akira, alright!” She smiled warmly, and Daí Yì’s heart could tell that not only Yusuke’s heart had been captured, “He’s a very special guy, and he keeps on dragging you in further as you get to know him.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and melancholy invaded her. She had never felt something like that, like she’d found something so precious. Not until she saw Yusuke work, anyway. “So he is important to all of you. I feel bad, now. As if I’m intruding in your lives. Maybe I should’ve just stayed away… But then, shouldn’t you be helping Kitagawa-kun get back with his…muse?”

Haru came back with several folded sets of pajamas in hand, and as she closed the door, she answered her question, “Even though we all feel very saddened about their break up, we also know there was a good reason for it. They both still love each other, but you know how in movies or novels even soul mates sometimes must part? I think this is that. Maybe they _are_ meant to be, but maybe it’s not the right time yet, and timing is very important when it comes to love because each person grows differently and at different paces. Perhaps they still need to grow further.” She approached Daí Yì with a soft smile that dispelled her doubts, “And if I am honest, I’d like to see whether you can help Yusuke grow, whether you can reach his heart and make it only yours. I’d like to see him be who he was meant to be, no matter who it is, and to finally cast away all remains of Madarame that still cling to him. And the first step is to awe him, so…” She lifted the sets to Daí Yì as an offer, “Ann, help me make Daí Yì catch Yusuke’s artist eye. Tonight, we shall make you his new muse!”

 

. . .

 

After changing into his pajamas _(the classic navy pants and long-sleeved button-up with vertical white stripes, they had to be vertical or else, for the symmetry)_ , washing his face, brushing his teeth and tending to his hair, only then did he dare venture back to Haru’s room, expecting the girls to have finished setting up. As he neared the door, he heard familiar giggles and a voice whining shrilly, _“This is not funny! It’s not fair! I swear you tricked me!”_

He knocked on the door and in a blink of an eye, he’d been pulled inside the room. He didn’t understand what the fuss was, so he began to try and analyze the situation. Grasping his forearm was Ann, dressed in an oversized blue cat shirt that fit her like a dress and a pair of red shorts with a cat head pattern, further into the room stood a giggling Haru in pink silk pants that reached just below her knees and a short-sleeved button-up shirt to match, and finally, tugging frantically at Haru and whining was red-faced Daí Yì, trying to cover her body up with one of her arms. She looked as if she was being dragged by a kidnapper. And then it clicked.

She was wearing a lilac one-piece silk pajama, similar to what Futaba had introduced him to as a “romper”, a tank top that was sewn to short-shorts. He could only remember Daí Yì wearing her clothes in a way that showed the least amount of skin possible. _Perhaps Taiwanese people are more conservative than people in Tokyo._ He could see some scars and some bumps to the texture of her skin, but her overall image was distraction enough to not focus on those details, though he didn’t mind them either way. She looked so different. Her usually hidden feminity shone through with the revelation of slender limbs, bringing attention to her petite build, cute small hands and feet, and adorably full cheeks, more noticeable when contrasted with her bare shoulders and clavicle, finally showing what even her short hair couldn’t cover anymore. Yes, she was cute. Maybe not beautiful like Ann, definitely not the same cute as Haru and Futaba. Maybe the fact that her personality sparked in such intense bursts, headstrong yet gentle… He couldn’t quite describe it, and he realized he had lost track and drifted in his mind. He had stared at Daí Yì for quite some time. Thankfully, her nervous outbreak kept her from noticing.

“Daí Yì-san, you look cute.” _And he went and said it. Great! He hadn’t meant to, but it was quite difficult for his mouth to not say exactly what he thought at any given moment. And she **was** cute. _“I’d like to paint you like this sometime. Maybe surrounded by plush animals and pillows.”

Ann squealed in excitement next to him, “Yes! Oh my God! So fluffy! I want to see it! So cute! Ugh, adorable, makes me wanna- Hah!” Ann couldn’t resist anymore, she _had_ stated that she found Daí Yì cute before, and she crushed Daí Yì in a bear hug while rubbing their cheeks together. The fact that Daí Yì was a bit shorter than Haru definitely added to her adorableness. _That’s it. She looks huggable. Yes, that’d make an excellent composition, a peaceful piece._

He nods, humming in appreciation, “The satin is an interesting contrast, flowy and seductive, shimmering, eye-catching, and yet you seem to be quite reserved. I wonder if in a safe space, inside your own four walls, in personal confinement, that’s where you reveal a much deeper, hidden part of yourself.” He watches as she instantaneously gains color from her neck to the tip of her ears, such a lovely combination with the pink silk. And she becomes an even more vulnerable version of herself he had never thought could exist, especially after her harsh, piercing words from that day. _Interesting, indeed. Just like when I first met Ann, she seems to be much more complex than she appears. Like a canvas with several layered paintings made one on top of the other, waiting to be peeled to discover different meanings in it. Marvelous in its own way, but restricting as well._ He found himself looking forward to discovering the original, the real painting that touched the canvas of her soul.

“So, let’s watch a movie!” Haru exclaimed. He hoped this would be a good start.

 

Never had they expected that watching a simple classic of their childhood,  _Howl's Moving Castle_ , would give them such a clear view into the nature of their new friend. Of course, nostalgia, music, and romance easily (and oftentimes) could stir the hearts of women, but this was different, and it seemed his friends noticed it too. Beyond sighs, giggles and pouts that were naturally timed and executed, Daí Yì had let her guard down and the dam broke when Sophie’s struggles of self-hate upon Howl’s childish despair over his hair color came onto the screen. She seemed to be as broken and offended as Sophie herself. And at that moment, he could tell they all wondered whether she carried the same pain as the beloved fictional character. The pieces started to come together, how she hid herself, curled her limbs and back to attempt becoming a ball of cloth, no skin revealed. Perhaps she thought the scars and bumps on her were horrible, huge, shameful marks that separated her from her peers, the many other girls who achieved near-perfection. He hadn’t thought about her financial situation. She had come to Japan through a scholarship. Had she a somewhat similar situation to him? Did she lack money to pay for superior levels of beauty? Did she measure herself by such a futile, worthless standard? Could she not see in herself those sparks she let glow, normally so dim, when she had been flustered earlier? The fact that she awakened all three of their protective impulses?

Haru had scooted close to her on the futon she laid out in her living room and hugged her across her shoulders. He was right, they too had noticed the possible origins of her ache. And he thought of her, and he thought of Akira. She was scared she was not enough for society, for _him_ and his potential friendship with her. And _he_ , he had made Akira feel that he thought he wasn’t enough on his own. That the definition of his existence was art and Akira. He understood feeling incomplete.

The movie had ended and silence blanketed the room. And, astoundingly, she started to grin at them, even if her cheeks still glistened slightly from dried tears. “I love this story. It makes me feel more human, I guess. I don’t know how to explain it, but I think it cleanses my heart, makes me better. It hurts, but in a good way.” Her grin softened to a glazed smile, “It fills me with hope.”

And, oh, did she shine.

 

Later on, after having painted each other’s nails while engaging in some small talk (Yusuke did Daí Yì’s, Daí Yì did Haru’s, Haru did Ann’s, Ann did Yusuke’s), they finally felt exhausted and the need to sleep coaxed them to bed. Ann shared Haru’s bed, while Yusuke and Daí Yì slept in futons set next to each other at the foot of Haru’s bed. The atmosphere was comforting and for the first time since he promised he’d prove Akira he could live for himself, he truly believed so. He was confident, he could really do it.

Dreams tumbled into his mind, at first, a jumble, then, a revelation. Goemon spoke to him.

“Paths of life, there are indeed plenty. The complex system of living beings is quite difficult to comprehend. To grasp one’s true self is not an achievement one can undergo in mere days, not even years. Yusuke, you grew and freed yourself from the state you were in, kidnapped and trapped your own soul underneath a mask of lies. You revealed me, the true power dormant within, and you awakened Kamu Susano-o, the next form of the most meaningful bond you had ever forged. But it is time now to take a step even further, to grow beyond what you know and keep discovering yourself in the midst of others. As a caterpillar who molts into a butterfly, you must discard your present self once more and forge new bonds. This is an experience you will have to relive for the rest of your life. Fear not, as all powers that you may awaken will remain inside you as I do. We are all part of you, different facets, increased strengths and new lessons learned.” He stands, regal, and stretches his arm in the same way as when Yusuke first relied on him to face his former _sensei_. “Now, go forth without hesitance and grasp that future that you have let slip through your fingertips.”

He couldn’t utter a word. Perhaps that was due to Goemon basically representing his subconscious or something like that. Either way, he knew he needn’t utter words for his Persona to understand him. He knew he had taken the words at heart and it would take a lot for him to forget his message. _I discovered who I am as a painter and who I am with and for Akira. Now, I must discover my new selves, my independent identities._ And this time, he promised he would try to grow closer to his fellow Thieves, to reach for his classmates and accept those who reached him, to let Sojiro father him as he had tried so many times, and, perhaps miraculously, he was open to the idea of exploring Daí Yì’s fondness for him. Whether he would eventually reciprocate the nature of her feelings was something they’d only find out once he really got to know her, and in exchange, let her know him.


	7. DILATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hearts are growing, eyes are glowing all because I can now see you.

He had never woken up to someone else’s face next to his before Akira. He certainly hadn’t expected (more so, hoped not) to do so to another face. Yet, he found his body felt warm, and not because of the futon. Goemon had provided great comfort, and Daí Yì’s relaxed face did the same. He glanced around the room. The sunlight was still very dim. It might've been very early, so he decided he could use this chance to draw. Luckily, he was prepared, sketchbook lying next to his pillow.

Every stroke, every curve brought forth memories of another face, how he used to trace his fingers over those features he was sure he’d never forget. Then, the eyelashes he was trying to draw fluttered.

“Yusuke?” Her hand reached towards his face and he could feel a finger trace under his eye, then across his cheek, collecting tears he hadn’t known he’d let escape. She scooted over to pat his head, threading her fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. But you’ll be okay.” She smiled gently. “He still loves you. You’ll be fine. You’ll go back to him once you’re ready and he will greet you with open arms. We’ll help. _I’ll_ help. I promise. Just sleep.”

And just like that, he let the sketchbook slide out of his grip and he curled up closer to the warmth.

 

A loud yawn startled them awake several hours later.

“I hadn’t had such good sleep in a while! Mmm, so comfy.” A gasp followed. “Haru! Wake up! It’s almost noon already! Dammit, I forgot I have a shoot today! I still have time but, still, I should start getting ready early.”

Yusuke sat up and saw a picture worth painting. “W-wait! Keep still, both of you! I promise I won’t take long.” Haru and Ann looked confused, squinting their eyes and stretching a bit. “Whu? What’s wrong-” Haru yawned, “What’s wrong Yusuke-kun?”

“I must draw this to make a piece later on!”

Daí Yì had heard the whole commotion and tried to ignore it to keep sleeping, but she soon gave up and sat on the futon to search for what had enraptured Yusuke so. She held in a burst of laughter. Sitting limply, with clothes wrinkled and slightly twisted from turning in their sleep were Ann and Haru, but the point of inevitable focus was their hair. Haru’s had puffed up to almost looking like an afro, and Ann’s, freed from the ponytails and ruffled on the pillow, had also puffed up and had almost swallowed up the view of her face and neck, covering her in a messy cascade of heavy, golden locks.

“They look like… mermaids!”

Yusuke gasped. “What a brilliant observation, Daí Yì! Indeed, it seems as if their hair was floating about underwater. Beautiful, delicate, but still with a hint of their fierceness.”

Haru laughed lightly, “Well, I’d never thought I looked decent when I just woke up, but you are both such flatterers.”

Daí Yì puffed up with pride, “You are wrong there, Haru. We can both see the beauty in what’s natural. We know how to appreciate visions beyond the plasticity that society seems to motivate and applaud.”

“Exactly!” Yusuke turned around to smile at her. Never had eye-contact affected her so. Thankfulness and warmth seeped from his eyes, and she found that being in love with him was worth it, and she couldn’t imagine regretting doing so, even if his heart belonged to someone else.

 

. . .

 

“Okay, I’ll get ready for the shoot now. You guys can come with, if you want! I may even be able to get the photographer to take some shots of you for me! I especially want some of Daí Yì in a cute outfit!”

 _Of course, Ann is a model! She is a rare beauty. The combination of her factions is eye-catching enough._ While thinking this, Daí Yì still gave her a glare in return for her suggestion and, laughing obnoxiously, Ann proceeded to take over the bathroom.

Haru turned to them, “Well, we had breakfast, but would you like to try some of my coffee while we wait for Ann to let us freshen up?” Yusuke smiled wildly in glee. “That would be wonderful! Daí Yì-san! You must try Haru’s coffee! She grows the beans herself and she spent time trying coffee all around Tokyo to perfect its brewing methods and flavor profiles! Akira and Sakura-san even believed she’d surpass LeBlanc’s quality-!” He abruptly went silent and lost the smile that had adorned his face mere seconds ago. Thankfully, Haru tried to pick up the spirits by changing the subject. “Help me move my tea table outside so we can drink in the garden.”

 _Akira._ It wasn’t the first time she heard that name, obviously, but it was the first time she witnessed how it affected Yusuke so completely. _Yusuke is worth loving and their break up has nothing to do with me. Why do I feel guilty about it? Not about loving him, but about how he lost his dear Akira. I wish we had someone to talk about it objectively._

While they set up the table, Haru brought her coffee siphon, and when they were all set, she started brewing slowly, rhythmically. “I’d like you to teach me someday, Haru-san. I am a coffee lover myself. I’ve always wanted to learn to be a barista, but until now, all I’ve learned about is distinguishing flavor profiles and knowing what kind of methods are best to brew certain coffee beans. I’m especially knowledgeable about Central and South American coffee.”

“Oh! Well, we could dedicate my lighter Sundays to that, though I’m afraid I don’t have much time, given that I have to attend to board meetings as well as college responsibilities.” Daí Yì gasped, “I didn’t think you’d be out of high school yet. And you also have a corporate job?!”

Haru giggled through a wide grin, “It’s refreshing to meet someone that has no idea about who I am.”

“So you mean, that’s why you live in a penthouse?! Because of a fancy job?!” Her tone of voice might’ve been too much, even for outdoors.

Haru started pouring the coffee in small, elegant cups, and Daí Yì was now afraid of their worth because she was a clumsy one. With trembling hands, she accepted the cup and wrapped both her hands around it. It seared her skin, but she was more afraid of having to pay back a crazy amount for cups that, for all she knew, could be from the freaking Ming Dynasty or something!

Haru smiled at her wide-eyed guest, “No, I’m afraid it’s not entirely from my own initiative. My grandfather opened a cozy restaurant many years back and when he died, my father took over, but my grandfather’s vision was lost and my father only focused on profit, quickly turning the family restaurant in the biggest national fast-food chain, a million-dollar conglomerate. A while ago, my father died, and as his only descendant, I inherited his share of the stock and pushed through to bring forth my own ideas into the business by trying to revive the essence of what my grandfather did. So now, I am involved in decision-making and studying business. But, please, do not treat me differently. I may have access to some things more easily than others, but I strive to live as normal as possible, given my position.”

Daí Yì only nodded, “I can tell you’re a great person, and very admirable, might I add. I am sorry for your loss, but I’m glad you’ve been so strong.” Glancing towards the still brooding Yusuke, Daí Yì attempted to grab his attention, “Oh! Kitagawa-kun, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I’ve had some questions on my mind. First and foremost, what kind of images or themes do you enjoy to take on as subjects of your art?”

He still seemed a bit entranced, yet he answered surely, “Well, my first stage involved more of abstracts of people, sometimes in urban sceneries, or still-life works, mainly of food. Then, it evolved to works of a different sort that tackled the topic of the human heart. Because emotions and thoughts are abstract, the style that I adopted for those pieces was abstract as well; much more colorful than my previous works, though. Lastly… Well, you’ve seen what my most recent phase is all about. _Was!_ ” She smiled at him sadly, “Don’t worry, we’ll help you expand your artistic horizons. Perhaps working with completely new things might do the trick. I don’t know if you’d be willing to try other mediums… Anyway,” she perked up, “My other question, why do you always choose to be alone at school? Haven’t you thought that new friends and experiences might help you gain other sorts of inspiration? And you cannot tell me everyone badmouths you, because that simply is not true. Sure, there’s plenty of bastards doing it, but I’ve seen at least a handful approach you, and you just- You do the same thing you were doing with me.” She pouted bitterly. She couldn’t help herself. The resentment would be there for a while, still.

“I- have nothing to say to that, honestly. I guess I,” he gulped loudly as if something was stuck in his throat, “was raised to think I shouldn’t waste my time on other things than my art. I wasn’t raised to think I should socialize or have friends, much less with people who weren’t my peers in painting.”

She flinched harshly. She saw that Haru had emptied her cup and Yusuke had sipped at it until very little remained. She clenched her fingers lightly, the cup full and growing more cold than lukewarm. “I forgot. Sorry. I- The thing is, all I wanted to say is that I appreciate your effort to try to get to know me and even perhaps befriend me, but I feel you should make that same effort with everyone else that tries to get to know you. Even though I might feel special because of your exclusive treatment to me, I’d rather see you have a fulfilled, normal teen life than be selfish and have you all to myself in Kosei.” She grinned, “Actually, I was planning to do the same for myself. I don’t want to keep being scared because of the language or my nostalgia, I want to befriend those who totally seem worthy.”

And just like that, gentle, happy Yusuke was back.

 

. . .

 

“Haru, I honestly feel embarrassed! I can’t keep borrowing clothes from you like this! At least let me compensate you in some way.”

“Hmm, just having you hang out with us is compensation enough. And, you may keep the clothes! I sneaked the pajamas into your bag, anyway.” She winked cheekily as she took hold of Daí Yì’s elbow.

“Oh! It’s just over there you guys!” Ann ran ahead in excitement and stretched her arms to energetically present their destination, “It’s Markus Shop! The shoot for today is going to be a lifestyle session of me using their products to show how, even though they have a classic vibe, they’re still chic and modern in their own way. Come on!”

It definitely was a wonderful place. Minimalism was the first word that ran through Daí Yì’s mind when she saw the interior. “I really like their concept. Traditional Japanese products with classic designs, but thought for modern minimalistic lifestyles. An urban take on _Minka_ ,” Yusuke affirmed, his thoughts in sync with hers. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. I like this store, though I probably would have never come across it if it wasn’t for Ann’s job. I haven’t gone out much with others, and we mostly have only gone and grab a bite at the underground mall or to Karaoke.”

“Oh!” Haru chirped in interest, “So you have gone out with others. I was starting to wonder whether you spent all your time outside school and home following Yusuke around. Heeheehee, silly me. Don’t look so shocked! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to offend you. Hahaha! It’s just, the way Yusuke put it, it sounded as if you always followed him home or something of the sort.”

Daí Yì blushed darkly, “I- I mean- I kinda did that, _but not **every** day! _Sometimes, very little times, but sometimes I hung out with some classmates when they asked me to. We’re not close, but we get along well. They’re nice… Though…”

Yusuke had been framing bits and pieces of the shop nonstop, and Ann had been talking with the photographer for a bit and was handed out an outfit. Before she headed to go change, she approached them, “Hey! So I’m gonna change while they set up some textures, kay?” Haru gave a glance at Daí Yì to coax her on elaborating on their prior conversation. Yusuke seemed to tune in. “Well, they’re nice, but I barely have anything in common with them. As grateful as I am that they approached me, I’d like to become close friends with someone, you know? Find someone that shares my wavelength.”

Haru hummed thoughtfully, but Yusuke, for once, had gained social insight first, “Well, besides myself, has another person ever caught your eye? I don’t mean romantically or physically, but perhaps in what they do or the energy they exude.”

“I haven’t paid much attention to people from other classes, just ours. But I’ll- I’ll try.” She smiled shyly, and Yusuke felt ridiculous because he felt both proud of her _(How? They barely just met!)_ and ashamed of himself and his lack of confidence and willingness to make friends. While it was true that Madarame’s influence had greatly affected him and taken hold of his mentality up until only a year ago, that didn’t excuse his pettiness at trying to shelter himself in that poisonous way of being. He destroyed himself further, and that path of destruction had finally claimed its first casualty: Akira. And he didn’t want to imagine his life without the others either. He knew he was treading a thin line and at any moment, he’d push them away too hard and they’d fail to come back. They would just reluctantly and sadly give up. He couldn’t allow that. _Goemon, watch me!_ “Daí Yì! Let us become friendly rivals! We shall both attempt to approach others and create bonds. We may do so together or individually, but we both must put in efforts to expand our horizons and come forth into the world as adept, socializing human beings!”

Daí Yì broke out into boisterous laughter while Ann approached, “What a roundabout way to tell me you want us to compete in making friends! But I accept the challenge,” she extends her hand, offering it for a handshake, and Yusuke gladly takes it in his own with tenderness. “I am glad.”

Ann shakes her head at the sight, and both she and Haru roll their eyes while smiling, “Okay, okay. We’re going to start, so pay attention, you guys!”

 

. . .

 

How Ann managed to make the use of everyday articles something attractive, Daí Yì had no idea, but she liked the fact that Ann had never once come across as snobby to her. In spite of her enviable looks and natural charm, Ann was actually just a normal, fun girl. She thought this applied to all three of her enigmatic companions. Haru was rich, yet she acted as humble and down-to-earth as can be and she always seemed to behave in a way that was thoughtful and considerate to others. And Yusuke. She liked to think, to believe, that he would’ve had such a gentle soul either way, even if he hadn’t grown under the harshness of Madarame. She really wanted to believe that he’d be as humble and romantically eloquent even under different circumstances. Sure, he was complex, a tough nut to crack, but he really was loyal and selfless when it came to his art and, apparently, his friends.

“Daí Yì! Come over here for a sec!”

She hadn’t realized she had spent most of the shoot just pondering sightlessly. “Coming, Ann!” Had she missed something? What had happened that would require her to approach the set? It was too late, and by the time she realized that Ann had wholly intended to go through with her jest (that was actually a serious proposal) of having her model, she didn't know how to run away. With a spare change of clothes passed onto her, shoulders pressed to lead her to change, the whirlwind that was her mind hadn’t actually processed what was happening around her until she has half-dressed in the borrowed clothes. _What am I doing?! Why didn’t I refuse? Or run out of the store and pretend I was going for a coffee? SOMETHING?!_ One of the first things she had identified that Yusuke had in common with her was getting lost in a train of thought that seemed to endlessly diverge into countless possibilities, and it was difficult to break free. Now, she was paying for it dearly for the first time since she’d arrived in Japan. _I let my guard down and brought this upon myself._

Bang, bang, bang! The door to the bathroom she was crowded in rattled under the pressure. “Daí Yì!” Ann whined, annoyed, “Hurry it up! There’s no turning back, now!” Daí Yì huffed, she had become lost in thought again, the thing that had precisely led her to her current problem. She normally wouldn’t let such embarrassing scenarios develop for her so willingly. _Oh, right…_ “Just a moment! Going!” At least she could yell in English, though she still had to be careful not to let her bitter thoughts slip out so easily, in case Haru or Ann were nearby to listen in and retaliate. _Curse them for being adept in the languages I speak._

And the outfit had only come to her attention once Ann exposed her to Yusuke’s line of sight. Gladly, it was not extravagant or overly revealing like the pajamas from last night, but it was certainly meant to compliment Ann ( _which, let me point out, is taller than me! Four inches do make a difference!_ ).

The flowy, pastel-colored kimono blouse hung loosely from her frame, and she had to keep accommodating it so it wouldn’t slip off her shoulders (her bust was more modest, after all, and in spite of all the years wishing she could be taller but flatter, just plain lanky, this was the first time she’d ever wished she could fill up an outfit). The dark blue leggings reached down just above her knees, a better fit than the blouse in spite of her shorter legs ( _Oh! Of course! **This** I can fill out just fine!_) “Oh! Here! The shoes.” Ann presented her with a pair of dark blue colored straw sandals. “Warazori, that’s what they’re called.”

She easily became distracted by the unique sandals, eyeing the details. Yusuke approached from behind, eyeing along her pensively from above her shoulder. “Hmm, I’d like a pair, now that I think about it. They seem sturdy enough, not uncomfortable, and they’re airy. To not dirty my socks when I’m in my room. And maybe that will help me become aware of the paint stains on my feet.” Daí Yì smiled widely and then proceeded to change her shoes. Yusuke _was_ hopeless when under the trance of art. And, yet, he tended to be exaggeratedly practical, but only where his art was involved. While finally slipping in the straw sandals, she murmured, “Don’t tell me you paint with all your uniform still on?”

She hadn’t meant for him to listen, but he did, “Yes, I do.” She stood and giggled as she walked towards Ann, who quickly put some makeup on her.  “Should we go to buy some clothes for you that are meant to be stained, then?” He shook his head, though her eyes were no longer on him, “I cannot afford such expenses. Besides, I have managed in this way the whole of my school life.” The photographer finally managed to get a word in, “So, um, Daí-chan, was it? I’ll try taking some pictures that I can maybe slip in the article. Or maybe we could manage to slip some of yours into the shop’s blog, Internet publications are more flexible. Now, sit down next to the _chabudai_ , grab the fan with the wave prints. Yes, that one. Don’t worry, once we establish the shot, the other props will be taken away. Okay, now, open the fan, sit with a bit of an angle towards the side, almost giving your entire back to the table. Uh-huh! Now, tilt your head back, let your hair fall slightly back. Exactly! With your left hand, open the fan and hold the edge of it to your chin, but let the side of your neck facing the camera be seen, please. A bit more to the side. There! Hm, finally, and this is where it gets trickier. Please, bear with me and try to only move your right arm. Move it to grab the teapot’s handle. Now, lift it so your arm is straight, and tilt your hand down, stretch your fingers, as if you were pouring. Perfect! I know it’s uncomfortable, but stay still please.”

And as the flashes glared at her in blinding sparks, Yusuke drew.

Later at night, when he looked back at the drawings, he couldn’t help but think that, though Daí Yì’s eyes were plain brown, they held something in them that he wanted to understand. Similar to Ann’s and Akira’s when he was barely getting to know them, something in them pulled him in. And he thought, maybe she’d be the victim of a Palace if they had still existed.

 

. . .

 

She had never had problems getting up on Mondays in particular. In spite of her state of mind, she would still manage to be an early riser most of the time. This Monday, however, she was genuinely at ease with the idea of getting out of bed, and she did so without issue. Perhaps it was due to the silly fun that ensued during the photoshoot, Ann and Haru’s incremented teasing, the casual photos taken of the four that were shared by Ann, the fact that she hadn’t shied away from the eyes that had set on her during it all. The fact that she got all three’s contacts and promises of more outings.

Her promise to become closer to her classmates still stood heavy in her heart, but she was glad that even through incredible misunderstandings, she had still finally become closer to Yusuke and his friends. Or at least part of them… She still had to ask who had texted her and found her apartment’s location. She’d have to talk to Yusuke afterward about that.

In her excitement, she hadn’t realized she was running _way_ too early. She was still used to her 7:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. schedule. She had worried extremely when transferring to Kōsei. Anime always showed Japanese school days to be eternal, like grinding in a videogame. When she found out the schedule was from 8:30 a.m. to 3:00 p.m. (not including club activities) she’d been elated. Club activities were not an issue for her. Aside from regular schoolwork, she did spend most of her free time dedicated to her literature, so she’d actually have more time. Since she had done her own errands back home anyway, shopping, cleaning, and cooking, the only potential problem had been the curriculum differences (though she'd sucked at math no matter where she went).

She could ride the Keihin-Tohoku/Negishi Rapid from San Chome, Kanda to Akabane, Kita City and have time to spare. She could even walk to school, actually. _23 minutes by train… Then a 15-minute walk to Kōsei. Maybe I should’ve tried and insist more on letting me live in the dorms. ** ~~Though they know I’d isolate myself.~~**_

The choice had been strategic. Kudanshita Habitations was, kinda obviously, only a 5 minute walk away from Kudanshita Station, where she could take the express connection to the school. The place already came fully furnished, she could still cook, Internet was included, she could ride a bike to most places of interest, and the Jinbōchō Bookstore was also less than 10 minutes away (she could build-up her stash and her skills at home much easier). Extra pluses came in the form of various Imperial sites and parks in the area. It was ideal. (And it was cheap.) But what her parents _actually_ looked for was for her to not live close to boys. (The irony! Considering she didn’t like getting close to people much. And also considering she’d become love-struck with Yusuke in mere days.)

Well, _anyway_ , she’d take another route to the train station, look around Kanda before it was time to get on the train that’d still get her to Kōsei around 20 minutes early. Browsing the still tranquil streets, she walked from San Chome to Ichi Chome to pinpoint a second-hand CD store and walked up the street and by the antique bookstore, The White Art Gallery in Sarugakucho, and as she was headed further up the Kinka-dori street to buy some snacks at Ishige Shokuryohinten, before taking a sneak-peek of the Kikaiyu Public Bath, she, very luckily or even miraculously, got a glance of a Western-style church.

She had never seen buildings of the like because people in Taiwan were mainly Buddhists or Taoists. Very few Christians of any sort were found in the whole country, and much less in Kaoshung. The northern regions of her home country were the most exposed to other cultures. Kōsei might have been Catholic, but it only seeped through when it came to things involving history and culture. In literature, The Divine Comedy was an example. History, they’d be taught about the Inquisition. Art, Baroque contrasted with the Renaissance. Music, Gregorian hymns. All this came in hand with traditional Japanese education; It felt more like general cultural knowledge of the Western hemisphere, expanding her knowledge beyond Asia. She appreciated that. Artists of any sort needed to be exposed to as much information as they could, since anything could become a source of inspiration.

And with such mindset, she readily crossed the street and into the church. And there, there she saw her.

 

_The queen counts her horses_

_And her losses_

_All while she rolls and tosses_

_On silk sheets and mosses_

_And her eye glosses_

_And her lover fusses,_

_She is still slave to her bosses,_

_Those who erect the crosses_

_And prepare the coffins_

_For the corpses and fossils_

_While she watches through glasses,_

_A prophet of gossip,_

_Not worthy of pauses,_

_Runs out of courses and forces,_

_And the cautious foxes_

_Get buried in boxes._

_She stands flawless._

_“The Novice”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! The introduction to MY queen (I love Hifumi, dammit!).  
> Also, further on, Naoya Makigami (Daybreakers' victim - Kosei student) is also going to make his appearance! xD 
> 
> In addition to all chapter details, THIS is Daí Yì's apartment:  
> https://modernliving.tokyo/property/modern-living-kudanshita-habitation/


	8. STAINED GLASS HEARTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fragile, yet colorful, we are all fragments of the same collage that make a whole. Coming together, coming undone.

She had never been much for faith. She didn’t use to think there was anything worth saving lying in the hearts of humans. It was useless to believe, to hope there was at least a sliver of light, empathy stored in such twisted minds that gave birth to so many rotten societies, a doomed world such as this. No amount of holy images, bathed in peaceful and colorful auras would ever serve as atonement. There was nothing sacred, never had been.

She was still convinced of this thought, at least almost entirely. Sure, she’d met genuinely good people, but still, her belief hadn’t changed overall. Almost _all_ people alive would be deserving of that imaginary hell that kept being reinvented by each mind or pair of lips that pondered about it and interpreted everyone’s horrible souls. And yet, the image she saw that day would forever be emblazoned in her every thought when she was about to give up again (the first of many images to come that she’d hold onto).

 

The sun began to shine with a brighter intensity and the white insides of the church made the solitary yet complacent figure that sat at the right-hand corner of the church, her black curtain of glossy hair shimmering with highlights as her head turned to look towards the window, become an outstanding beacon of peace, elegance, and beauty. And to top it all off, an _omamori_ tassel knot was held vibrantly to her hair. The perfect contrast. A Japanese traditional element, besides the girl’s jet-black hair and pale face, surrounded by the ominous glory of (honestly, forced) westernization. And her heart swelled. It was like watching an ancient willow surrounded by modern buildings having all its hanging leaves rustled by a solar storm. And just like that, her feet carried her forward.

“Um! Excuse me, miss! Do you have a second?” _That uniform..!_ “Uh, I hadn’t realized we were in the same school. What class are you in? Uh! Sorry, I’m not even making much sense, I- I saw you from the doors and I thought I had to get to know you! U-uh, I want to write a poem about what I saw, about you! Uhhh~ I’m Chén Daí Yì, I’m a new transfer student at Kōsei High.” The girl seemed to be staring blankly at her, green eyes unfocused even if they’d settled on her frame. She truly was a classic Japanese beauty. _Yukatas and kimonos would definitely suit her perfectly…_

“…We’re going to be late.” Daí Yì got startled. She had begun walking with plenty of time to spare. Had she really been so absorbed in the imagery the church had presented her with? She was acting just like Yusuke… “Uh, yes, sorry, of course. Let’s head to the station, then. Do you mind walking together?” The girl blinked repeatedly, “Oh, my! No, I don’t mind.” She smiled gently, timidly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to phase out like that, it happens to me a lot. I am Hifumi Togo, I’m also a third year, class 3A. I think I heard of you before. You’re the Taiwanese literature student that shadows Kitagawa, right?”

 _Seems that I ruined my chance before getting it. Damn it!_ “Haha… Yeah. Not the thing I’m proudest of, nor what should define me, but, yes, that is me.” Hifumi’s soft laughter tinkled in the air. “I’ve been through the same, so don’t worry. Come, let’s start heading to the train.” _An interesting character, for sure. Small strides, yet a powerful, fearless stance. She is like elegance incarnate. A quieted voice that wants to break out with a strong character. I wonder…_ “Uh, Togo-san, what are you specializing in at Kōsei?” Hifumi seemed to flow through the streets like water in a river, transparent, bright. “Oh, well, I am working my way towards being the first female Shōgi champion. I’ve had a few drawbacks, but I’m determined to let people see my love for the game and my passion for strategy.” _I’ve found myself a potential role-model, it seems._ “That’s so wonderful! I believe I feel the same about my own trade. Yes, there’ve been plenty of female writers since even the time of the Greek classics, but, mostly, only men are ever remembered for their contributions and words. Rarely have women ever been in the spotlight. And when they have been… Even though I may like the Harry Potter saga and, somehow, that Twilight mess got to be huge, I’d like for there to be more meaningful content taken into account when thinking about women as authors.” Hifumi giggled smoothly with trickling amusement. “In spite of everything, I believe the challenges we as women must face make us even stronger and fiery than most men. That self-satisfaction, that discovery in itself might well be worth the struggles. No one can take that feeling away from our hearts.” The subway entrance swallowed them, along with the crowds thrumming as they all descended in a mass down the stairs, as if they were all a collective mind, pre-programmed- _No, Daí Yì, stop it with the Groupthink._

As they stood and waited to board their train in comfortable silence, her tongue slipped her thoughts out of her mind against her will. “I wish I’d had girl friends like you back home.” Hifumi’s widened eyes looking back at her made the alarm bells screech in her mind, the electric shock reaching the base of her neck in strings of goosebumps running across her. “I suspect there was a lack of in-depth communication about topics of your interest. You strike me as someone who wouldn’t bother with on-going conversations about boys, fashion, or the newest shops in town.” She couldn’t help but blush at Hifumi’s bluntness. She had surprisingly understood the gist of her train of thought. “I do love exploring new places and trying out everything on a menu through many visits. And… if I’m honest, I do like clothes, but crowded places make me become anxious quickly and I lose my patience. Though it is true that, while I have an eye for aesthetics, I honestly don’t care about dressing for others but feeling comfortable with myself. Ah! I don’t mind those conversations either, but they are not the most interesting to settle on for hours on end…”

Hifumi waved, signaling to board together. They darted further in, grabbing the seats just right next to the door in a composed hurry. “Well, I have very few friends I can speak freely about Shōgi in the way I feel about it. One of the closest ones actually moved away, back to his hometown near the beginning of the year, so making a new one that I could be open with would be grounding.” Her heart leaped as her back bent forward, “I hope we can become friends, Togo-san!”

 

. . .

 

 _Strange that she is not here yet. She tends to arrive early to see my progress._ Yusuke couldn’t focus completely. The lack of a certain pair of eyes stealing glimpses of his work made him a bit restless. Had he really grown accustomed to Daí Yì’s particular brand of stalking? He couldn’t help the small smile that reached his lips at thinking about the concern she’d shown about him, even without having actually known him.

 _“Okay, I’ll try visiting the club. And now that I think of it, I should try one out myself. Might do me some good, you know? See you soon, then!”_ The door to the art room opened, and Yusuke wasn’t alone in his endeavors anymore. “Good morning, Kitagawa-kun!” Daí Yì greeted him cheerfully, the emptiness in her eyes from when they were last together overtaken by pure glee, “Guess what? I’m already on my way to creating a friendship!” She closed up her fists, braces her bent arms next to her torso and wiggled her hands. She looked ridiculous. _Cute._ “Is that so? Who is this person that caught your attention?” She put her fists to her hips, puffing out her chest with pride. “Hifumi Togo, the girl who will surely become the first female Shōgi champion!” Yusuke jumped slightly in surprise. _Wasn’t she Akira’s confidant? Yes, we changed her mother’s heart!_ “Oh, I see. Good for you, Daí Yì-san.” Her shoulders dropped. He hadn’t intended to affect her, but the memories hurt him. “I thought you’d be more excited for me.” He grimaced, “I _am_ genuinely happy for you. It’s just that I never personally got to befriend Togo-san myself. Akira did though. She even had a small crush on him back then. We helped her through some problems she was having, my friends and I, but Akira was her only true close friends at the time. Even if I was always a bit curious about her, I never really got to approach her, since I wondered whether she’d resent me over my relationship with Akira. And- I just cannot seem to shake off his presence from every single detail in my life, lately. I-”

Suddenly, there was an added weight on his head and warmth surrounding his neck. “I’m sorry you feel that way, but, Yusuke, you still love each other, so try not to suffer. Remember him fondly, and let that affection give you the strength you need to go back to him. Okay? Now, why don’t you try befriending Togo-san, once I give you the green light, of course? I’ll try and parse things to see whether she feels bad about what happened before you actually try, just to be on the safe side. I wouldn’t want any of you to feel uncomfortable.”

He smiled and grabbed at her arms, wrapped around his shoulders, feeling strangely comforted by the warmth of her breath on his head. “I appreciate your empathy.” She let him go, took a step back, “My pleasure,” she did a mocking curtsy, effectively making his smile grow. “But now that you’ve mentioned something like that… Yusuke-kun,” he looked directly into her eyes, the sound of his given name coming from her lips demanding his attention, “Please don’t distance yourself from people because of what happened between Akira and you. I’m sure he would be very upset if he knew he’s the reason you are isolating yourself. The people you both came to know together, they are a part of your life as much as they are a part of his. It’s not some bizarre divorce-like kinda situation in which you have to completely separate your lives forever. So, stop being silly. If there are other people you’ve kept away from because of that, please, try and connect again. For your sake and for his, too.” 

“I heard you mention something about joining a club just before you came into the room. I joined one myself last year. I had made friends with a classmate who was a Kendō champion after helping him sort out some issues with his brother. He insisted I joined him in the club and, already having some curiosity about the elegance of such traditional sport, I agreed. His companionship through the few shared classes we had and our light rivalry when training and dueling helped me feel more at ease at school. But this year, when we came back, we weren’t in the same class and I haven’t talked to him, even when months have passed. I didn’t attempt to join the club, too enraptured in missing Akira and doubting myself, thinking that perhaps our camaraderie was something only born out of our shared loneliness. And now that you’ve brought the topic to light, I remembered him and the pain I feel because I haven’t seen him. I really wish we could still be friends.”

She offered a sad smile at him, “Yusuke-kun, I’m sorry to say, but sometimes, as difficult as it might be, art can’t always convey thoughts clearly. Sometimes talking is the only way, even if you’re not the best with words.” And the bell rang. “Let us hurry. We might get into trouble if we get into our seats late.”

 

.

.

.

“Hmm… Daí Yì-san. Will you not be eating?” She lifted her head from the book she’d buried her face in. “Oh, sorry! Yes, I really should. I just let the excitement overtake me.” Yusuke observed the slightly worn book she held in her hands. “Is that for an assignment?” Pearls shined back at him. “No, I finally got my hands on Kamiki-sensei’s debut book! I’ve been trying to hunt it down since before coming to Japan. One of the reasons I accepted coming here in spite of my anxiousness of living in a foreign country was to study under him. I really admire his work, but, more so than that, I admire his views on life. I wish I could be more like him. I feel guilty about how I give up so easily all the time. Even when he was face to face with death for so long, even when he had actually gone through clinical death, then a coma… I mean- I’m honestly glad he made it, so I can learn from him beyond literature itself; learn from the pink alligator.”

“I see. If I’m quite honest, I always paid attention and liked most of my classes, except English and math-related topics, but I’ve never gone beyond with my curiosity and tried to learn about our teachers. I would like to get to know Kamiki-sensei, at least. And I imagine he’s quite approachable, seeing that he is only 26.” Daí Yì laughed lightly as she took out her bento box. “Yeah! He’s like a friend more than a teacher, I guess.” He couldn’t help but be concerned about her wording, “As long as you don’t forget that he actually _is_ nothing more than just our teacher. I wouldn’t want to see you going all “shoujō manga” on him, like a friend says, with forbidden love stories and all.”

He opened the door to the classroom just in time for the second bell, cutting off their conversation abruptly, not knowing the sour note he had just let hang on his newest friend’s mind.

 

. . .

 

Classes were over now, and she would rather distract herself with Hifumi’s soothing company right now. As she stood and quickly shoved her school materials haphazardly, his voice reached her ears, “Daí Yì-san, would you like to come with me to the Kendō Club?” She couldn’t look back at him, “Sorry, I promised Hifumi to visit her club.” No goodbyes or see-you-laters left her lips afterward. All that followed her words were heavy yet quick steps that took her as far away from the artist as she could get.

To think even Hifumi, an acquaintance she had met just that same day, could tell something was wrong… Though, she could feel no guilt whatsoever brewing in her for having been so thoroughly transparent with Yusuke. _I don’t want to see him. I don’t want him speaking to me. How DARE he?!_ Had he misconstrued her intentions based on how she had followed him around previously? Did he think of her as nothing more than an obsessive and unconfident girl that had no morals? And how could he disrespect Kamiki-sensei like that? Her?! Falling in love with a _teacher?!_ Did he value her feelings for him so little? Did he think her confrontation, her poems, were just a thing of the moment? How could he-?

“Daí Yì, you’re doing it again.” Oh. Great. She didn’t want Hifumi to distance herself from her on the first day of them trying to be friends. But she wouldn’t blame her. All she had as a reference too was her strange behavior as she followed Yusuke around before, and her outburst back in the church. To see that same girl stabbing a notebook and biting her lips until they bled was probably scaring her. “Togo-san, before we met today, what did you think of me? And, please, be completely honest about it.” Hifumi looked at her with saddened eyes, making them seem like marbles. _Those doll’s eyes again._ “I thought you felt as lonely and foreign in this place as I do. Well, most certainly, even more, because you are in fact a foreigner, unlike me. But, yes, I did feel like you were struggling between belonging, fitting in, and being yourself freely. You couldn’t find a balance. Perhaps, you have yet to find it, still. And, maybe, you saw Kitagawa-san as the closest person to your inner-self, or your past, or even home itself, so you tried to approach him, but the fear of not being accepted kept yourself at bay, so you decided to only be close, but not try and actually be with him.” Hifumi’s eyes grew distant as if she was hollow inside. “Every time I saw you two, I felt as if I had to do something, but I didn’t know how or what to do. I felt powerless. Like a match was happening before my eyes, but I lack the knowledge of the board to know what move should be next.” The light returned to her eyes softly, “I hope that now I can help alleviate your loneliness because I too am lonely. If we can support each other and be comfortable with being ourselves with the other, my concerns would finally leave me.”

In a second, all thoughts of Yusuke had faded from her mind, and only the racing thought of worry over the hand that she was now squeezing remained. She hoped she wouldn’t pull away, at least. What she hadn’t expected was to find a grip equally as strong returning her gesture in an attempt of comfort. She was thankful that the club had merely other six people besides them, all carefully concentrated in their practice, leaving the girls to their private moment even in that open room.

.

.

.

A message.

**_Daí Yì-chan, how have you been progressing with your anthology? Remember that the selection must be turned in within two months._ **

A sting.

**_Good evening, Kamiki-sensei. I’m afraid my muse has turned against me, quite literally._ **

A helping hand.

**_While I have barely any experience with relationships, I’d like to offer my assistance, or, at least, a listening ear for you to put your mind more at ease. Shall we have a meeting at school after classes are over?_ **

A sigh.

**_Thank you, I appreciate it. I’ll stay behind, then._ **

 

. . .

 

Well, she did promise to make new friends. He was glad she had actually done so. She had the right to have others by her side. No, she _needed_ more people. He was just afraid that she was being too open, too accessible, too gullible. He could be sometimes, but she… She seems to have a bleeding heart. She hadn’t gone through the sort of situations that make you untrusting, that helped you build up your guard. What if her mind and heart led her astray? Hmm… Astray… From what exactly? _What if she just left, got away from you, saw the real you, the distorted dependency that Ren ran away from? What if she never came back to his side?_ No, she knew about his most recent troubles, she had decided herself that she would support him and change along with him. _But what if those she finds along the way are better? What if she doesn’t need you anymore either? And his friends, what if they liked her better? Just like how they certainly preferred Ren._ He knew it was just about time and distance. If Ren had been the one to stay and Yusuke the one to go away, he would know nothing of any of them. He would’ve been abandoned to his loneliness again. They were more Ren’s friends than his.

“BULLSHIT!” No, he couldn’t degrade his wonderful companions like that. He treasured them. He adored Haru, he loved Ann, he was so fond of Futaba, he really cared about Ryuji. He couldn’t betray their affection like this.

But Daí Yì. She was a new figure in the equation. They had no strong bonds that ensured loyalty to each other. And she was making him doubt. She was draining him of his every thought. He couldn’t concentrate when his mind was so full of concern about her. About what she was to him, and what he was to her. _So? Easy. I must cut ties now that there’s a chance. It’s still early. Either way, I can still repair my lost bonds, and I can still forge new ones. Just not with her. And then, I’ll finally get there. To Ren._

Perhaps Madarame had been right, to a certain extent. Women could be poisonous to the mind.

 

(To the point in which he chose to believe Daí Yì was in love with their Literature teacher.)

 

. . .

 

 **_Guys! Something’s off! Inari and Daí-chan have not contacted each other through_ ** **_their phones in days! < _ ** ****

**_And I need material to blackmail them and tease them! The ship must sail so I can have_** **_a couple of dating artists at hand to do commissions for me! uwu <_ **

**_> For real?! That’s weird._ **

**_> My, I wonder what has happened. I knew I should’ve invited Daí Yì over for tea again, to talk about their progress._ **

**_> Hmm. Leave it to me! Ann Takamaki is on the case!_ **

**_> And, Futaba, please stop stealing information from others’ phones. We already talked about this. If not, I’ll tell Akira._ **

**_Yes, Queen! ;p < _ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have done this once before, but I plan to reread the story once again to see if I want to edit stuff.  
> I have this story clear in my mind, but mostly the main points and what I want the role for each character to be, so how things evolve to where I want them to get to has actually been more of an "in the moment" thing.  
> If you have any suggestions for me, feel free to share in the comments!


	9. A STUDY IN VELVET

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A door opens to put the blue of our hearts on display to anyone who may be observing.

She felt cold, as cold as the blue that surrounded her. Would she stop breathing, or would she die from hypothermia first? Her lungs felt tight, her heart tried to escape from behind her sternum. It hurt, but not as much as living. This was fine, yes. She would gladly take this time to escape. She had always been a coward, after all. Always kept to herself, willingly isolated her true self from the world for so long that she had become the impersonation she had created, and she was even worse at that. The fake her, not even that creation of hers was openly accepted. She was tired. She would give in. She would drown.

_Why would you allow fear spread like a poison in your heart?_

_There are more terrifying sites._

_It is true that human hearts are a terrifying sight,_

_But you must impose your light,_

_Vanquish the dark and tower over all._

_Roar to the heavens, make them shake,_

_So you may reveal your radiance!_

…A woman?

She swallowed the water that surrounded her but didn’t choke, the blue becoming white, and warmth enveloped her.

She was in her room. Her alarm was blaring beside her. It was all a dream.

She turned off the alarm and saw a notification. **New message.** Strange.

 ** _> Hi hăo, Daí-chan! Oi! What was that about your muse turning against you? Is Inari (Yusuke) being a meany to you? _**ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

 ** _> I can kill him for you~! _**(ง'̀-'́)ง

**_..._ **

**_Are you that same friend of Kitagawa-san’s that called me to Haru’s apartment?_ **

**_> Yup! _ **

**_> Btw, if you /are/ angry at him, just call him Inari. It annoys him! _**;p

Daí Yì couldn’t help but frown. She still didn’t know how she’d gotten her number or her address.

**_Sorry, but what is your name? And how did you get ahold of my personal information in the first place?_ **

**_> Oh! I’m Alibaba. And your info… That’s a secret~! _ **

**_> But! Do not worry! I won’t share your info. You’re safe with me!_ **

**_> So, ARE you angry with Inari? Did he do something? Wanna beat him up?_ **

**_> He’s lanky, we can totes take him on! _**(ง'̀-'́)ง

**_No, no! He just said something inappropriate. Just gonna avoid him until he realizes and apologizes._ **

**_> Bruh! He won’t even know he said sumthin’ wrong! It’s frigging Inari!_ **

**_> He ALWAYS says something wrong or weird out of the blue._ **

**_> That’s how he is._ **

**_> Did you really expect that a clueless, basically antisocial, repressed artsy dude would realize what he was saying?!_ **

**_> Probs won’t even understand what was wrong with what he said in the first place, even if you tell him._ **

Alibaba was right (extra points to her for using a nickname out of one of the most important literary works from the Arab regions). If you thought about it well, throughout all the time she’d interacted with Yusuke, he _was_ really oblivious about social cues, and unwillingly so. Perhaps she had jumped the gun too soon. She should better talk to him so he would stop implying she had forbidden feelings for their teacher. Even if the age difference wasn’t much, she had morals, and she would abide by them. It still pissed her off that he thought so lowly of her, but, well, he clearly needed to develop his friendships more to learn when to shut up and not judge.

 ** _You’re right, Alibaba-san. I’ll talk to him._** :)

 ** _> Don’t you dare use honorifics on me! _**(⌐■_■)=/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿

Where all of Yusuke’s friends so… heavy?

**_Okay. Alibaba. Thanks!_ **

**_Gotta run!_ **

**_> Make like a tree! Fwoosh! _**ε＝┏(･ω･)┛

A tree? Nevermind. She would talk to him and make things right. Hopefully…

Ah… She also had to stay after school to talk with Kamiki-sensei. Such bad timing…

 

. . .

 

He hadn’t slept a wink. His mind hadn’t made sense.

_How is it that the only person that saw any value in me was the same man who murdered my mother and abused me for almost 14 years of my life?_

Vacations were starting soon, but… “Akira… You’re coming back.” _And, most likely, you won’t see me. You’ll avoid me. And our friends, they’ll go to you. And I’ll be left out. They’re more your friends than mine, after all. You don’t really need me. It’s me who needs all of you. And,_ “Daí Yì”, _the one person who sought for me, the one person that said she needed me. She’s moved on. She doesn’t need me anymore. And it’s all because of me. Because she wanted **me** to move on. Yet, I am the one at a standstill. I am the one that has remained stagnant. _

“Have you moved on from me too, Naoya?”

.

.

.

Her greeting was hesitant. Her eyes were avoidant.

Had his comment actually offended her? Or had something happened afterward that was troubling her? He had no idea. _Perhaps my warning was unwelcome. Because it was none of my business who she likes? Because she did feel something for sensei?_ No, he... He just wanted to believe that was the truth, so the compromising pressure that he felt because of how she thrust her feelings upon him would disappear along with her. It was a heavy burden to bear. Even if she had said she didn’t mind being unrequited. He felt guilty. Guilty because he was doing to her what Akira was doing to him. But he also couldn’t push his mind to pretend she loved sensei just to be relieved. It was unfair to her, especially since it just portrayed her as a crazy, obsessive girl that sneaks around and follows any man that catches her eye all day. She would never be one to do that sort of illegal, immoral stuff, no matter that she was a poet and romanticism was in her veins.

 _Sneak around. Follow. As she had done to me._ He so wished one could choose what the heart felt. He wished love worked like an on and off switch. He wished he could turn off her switch, or turn his on for her. It wasn’t like that. _Akira._ He knew he was kind of pathetic, hanging on, clinging stubbornly, being too afraid to change and be able to stop clinging and merely holding his hand, but being able to survive, to _breathe_ even if their hands had to part for a while.

He was so selfish, so childish. What he’d done to himself, to his friends. Did they even consider him a friend? He had always doubted so, but he now saw that perhaps his doubts were rooted in his own behavior. In the fact that he had made of Akira the center of the universe, the force which he revolved around 24/7. He had dictated his life, not because he’d wanted to, but because Yusuke had made it so. He still felt so embarrassed that Akira had to be driven to the point of having to end it. It was his fault. He had made him feel as if he was another Madarame, and he hadn’t wanted anything like that. It hadn’t been his choice. Instead, the person he loved had forcefully and inadvertently become a dictator for him. He felt it was unforgivable, how he hurt his partner without knowing. If only they had talked things out, looked for a way to fix everything together. But Akira was _there,_ Yusuke was _here._ If only Akira had stayed. But he couldn’t blame him for leaving, either. Akira had spent a whole year in Tokyo facing his demons head-on, it would completely betray who he was and what he stood for if he kept running away from his parents and the people in his town. If only he was as brave and consistent as him.

One step at a time. He would talk with her, and he would go and look for Naoya to reconcile their abandoned bond.

 

“Daí Yì! May I have a word with you?” Classes had ended, and instead of sticking to his usual routine of sketching his surroundings during lunch, he dedicated his break to practicing what he would say, how he would apologize. She hesitated again, but, to his relief, nodded in agreement. “Well then, would you come with me to Inokashira? There’s more than sufficient space for privacy there.”

 _If only,_ Daí Yì thought, _this was meant as an inspirational stroll or a confession._ But alas, the tension wasn’t at all romantic. Yusuke hoped it would work out okay, he was about to spend the last of his train fare money for this trip, but he felt she at least deserved an ideal location for him to pour his heart out and explain himself. Maybe the atmosphere could even better her reception. As they settled on a bench facing the lake under the twilit sky and the shade of the trees, leaves rustling noisily in a foreboding way, he spoke, “Daí Yì-san, I must apologize profoundly to you. I didn’t mean to make you feel demeaned by me with my baseless warnings and accusations of your, frankly non-existent, attraction towards sensei. I haven’t nor would I think of you in such an immoral way. My excuse has no credit, either. I have merely been afraid of the fact that you like me and that I do not correspond you. I know you said you’d be happy with me returning to my beloved, and though I believe you, I am also aware that, nevertheless, I am actively hurting you by becoming closer, but never close enough. The weight of your feelings is something I-“

He hadn’t expected to be slapped for feeling empathetic. He definitely did not expect her following answer. “Yusuke! Don’t think about me! Think about yourself! Gosh! And here I thought you had misunderstood and exaggerated my admiration for sensei as real love. The idea pisses me off, but this! The truth! So, every time you encounter someone that likes you as more than a friend, you’ll offend them without thinking and push them away FOR YOUR SAKE?! Self-entitled, selfish, mindless, jerk!”

She was by no means truly fast, but his mind had halted and he felt as though she stormed off as fast as the Reaper would throw itself upon unknowing victims once he was close enough. He would prefer that surprise attack over this. He didn’t need a complex understanding of battles in Mementos. It was just a thing of weaknesses and strengths, that was all. He needed assistance to solve this riddle.

His cellphone rang.

“Perfect timing, Haru. I’m in need of your assistance.”

_“Oh? What is it, Yusuke?”_

“Firstly, I need help deciphering the reason why Daí Yì just stormed off angrier than she was yesterday. I am also in need of a ride back to Kōsei, or to your house, from Inokashira. Maybe an ice pack too…”

_“…You are not planning on eating the ice, are you?”_

“I need it for the bruise on my cheek. For someone short and weak, Daí Yì slapped me harder than expected. Perhaps anger and adrenaline ignited her hidden potential at that moment.”

He heard Haru sigh sadly.

_“I’m already heading out. I’m bringing you back to my flat.”_

“I’m very grateful.”

 

. . .

 

Everything hurt. The mismatched stones over which she lay, the tide that kept her on the edge, drifting, sliding over the sharp ends, dampening her, chilling her to the bone. The wind was suffocating, and even if she had surfaced and the water no longer lingered inside her, she still could not breathe. The constant thought that plagued her mind was a vague hope and expectation that, at some point, the tide would carry her just so and a stone might pierce her heart. Anyway, it wouldn’t matter, it had already been shattered by an excess of empathy, by misplaced pity.

But maybe she deserved it, she wasn’t strong and this situation, this deranged desire to perish, proved it.

_Why would you allow fear spread like a poison in your heart?_

_There are more terrifying sites._

That voice again.

_It is true that human hearts are a terrifying sight,_

_But you must impose your light,_

_Vanquish the dark and tower over all._

She could not see the woman.

_Roar to the heavens, make them shake,_

_So you may reveal your radiance!_

Once again, the blue burned into blinding white, but, this time, a golden butterfly settled on her forehead, and a man spoke.

“The time comes for your awakening. I am thou, thou art I. You existed within me, I still exist within you. You live wearing many masks, and I am but one. I have lived wearing many masks, and you are but one. It is time to come forth and _reveal your radiance_.” The butterfly spoke, the woman joined it.

Radiance.

…

Who am I?

She hadn’t noticed she was now standing, a velvet butterfly cupped between her hands.

“You are the missing bond, the one that will close the journey of the Wild Card, give closure to the path of the Emperor and reinforce the circle by unchaining all bonds. The bonds have been reversed, but you will straighten them again. Though the path might be painful, all is set for you to free them from their unjust fates.”

She didn’t understand anything? Was she having a medieval-themed nightmare?

“Until we meet again.”

 

. . .

 

The china clattered along with his heartbeat.

“I agree in that she overreacted, but Yusuke-kun, you do realize her point is valid, right?”

He sighed for the millionth time that night, “I was merely trying to spare her from suffering meaninglessly.”

Haru stared icily at him, in spite of him having been the ice wielder before, “That is not for you to decide just as much as it is not for you to decide whether Akira should accept you now, later or ever. Pardon me for my frankness, but each person is entitled to their own thoughts and feelings. Of course, some are abhorrent and should strive to change for the better, but when it comes to love, it is not a rational decision you make and plan for. If it was like that, I would’ve managed to force myself into loving my previously abusive fiancé. And no, your situation with Madarame isn’t exactly comparable. Things aren’t black and white. You resented him at the same time that you adored him. That is completely possible. Opposing feelings can come together in a mix and be very hard to distinguish and separate from each other, but contradictions are still there.”

She hardened her stare into a glare now, “And Yusuke, we ALL had crushes on Akira. Every. Single. One. Of. Us. And you didn’t see him banishing our friendship or even our love. He didn’t, couldn’t, return it, but he knew it was there, accepted it and felt happy and worried. He helped us through to realize we would only ever be friends of his because he would only ever love you. So how come it’s so hard for you to just let Daí Yì’s love for you be? If Akira could handle the feelings of more than six people, why can’t you just try and handle one?” She sighed sadly, “I know that you are not as socially adept as Akira-kun, but we have told you dozens of times: The Phantom Thieves are here for you. We will listen, we will advise you, we will accompany you. So, please, next time, come to us when you feel troubled _before_ running loose and jeopardizing your relationships.”

She panted slightly, frustrated and clearly needing to go out and chop wood to calm down her rage at the lack of the Metaverse and its Shadows.

“Not meaning to offend you or demean your monologue, are you done?”

She nodded stonily.

“I must confess, Goemon spoke to me not long ago in a dream. He said that I must keep growing by making new bonds and that this process will have to be repeated all through the rest of my life. But how can I do that when I actually never have? My bonds to all of you just came through the Metaverse and the reveal of my Persona. It was a given, something I didn’t actually have to work for. In any case, all of you had to work for me, to try and understand the extravagant weirdo because you were stuck with me-“

She grasped his hands, gently but firmly, “We were not stuck with anybody. The reality of it was that for the first time we weren’t stuck, but found where we belonged. Where is the confident Fox that was the first to bravely step forward to confront Yaldabaoth when we all hesitated? You gave us your strength at that moment. As much as you think we are inspiring to you, you are inspiring us. I honestly doubt I would have survived your previous situation. I feel that Madarame did worse than my father, treated you worse than he ever did me. But you still kept on. And what is most admiring, for both me and Futaba, is that you still somewhat love him and forgive him. It wasn’t easy for you to realize that, but it was easy for you to feel that, and that is so much more than any of us have ever done.” She pulled him closer by his hands and wrapped him in a hug, “You have a really tender heart. That’s why we all understood why Akira fell in love with you. So don’t let his love or yours go to waste. Show us all what that heart can do and face life head-on. You can do it, Yusuke-kun.”

.

.

.

Once he returned to his dorm with Haru’s help, he was invaded by the impulse of portraying Daí Yì’s pain in the style of Picasso’s blue period, coming up with his own interpretation of how her own incarceration would’ve looked and felt like in the now inaccessible Velvet Room. The result made him weep. He remembered the weight of the chains in his heart, how welcomed and liberating the weight of the mask that replaced it had been, but she did not know that joy.

“Not yet.”

 

A restless night. He had heard that oftentimes one might dream of the last thing that was on your mind when falling asleep. And so, they meet.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room, Emperor, Moon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm mixing up so many things (adding P1 and 2 references slowly but surely) and trying to make the internal struggles as real as I can (one step forward, two steps back, a jump upwards, a hard fall).  
> Suggestions and observations are welcome! 
> 
> Also re-edited chapters 1-7 for spelling, typos, and grammar mistakes here and there (because not even Word's autocorrect or Grammarly fix everything, sometimes they even worsen things...). Nothing of consequence has been changed. The biggest edits were in previous chats that may have been confusing or unclear. (I write how I think sometimes, and maybe only I can understand myself so...)


	10. RESTLESS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voices call upon your instincts, and you are awoken for the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it took more time than I thought, but it was totally worth it to re-edit and add some RyuAnn.  
> Enjoy!

He knew this was strange, but he needed to tell someone. He had already learned, through so many failures last year, that ignoring his gut never led too any good. “Futaba, how much have you advanced with your mother’s research? I – I was wondering if Palaces could be generated even if we have no connection to the Metaverse anymore or whether Personas can be awakened still. I… can still listen to Goemon inside me. He’s trying to guide me further. So, if we still have our powers, dormant as they may be, could others awaken their own even after all that has happened?”

The constant sound of erratic fingers hitting keys stops suddenly. Never has Futaba had problems multitasking; she has been able to finish entire databases cracking missions, as she has called them while discussing coloring techniques of various anime studious in Japan.

The silence is unnerving.

He starts to doubt whether he should have consulted with her first. She seems to be on the same page. “Inari, this topic – we should be including Makoto in this convo, y’know?” Inhale, “As you wish. Could you attempt connecting her?” The keyboard comes alive under her fingers once again, “On it.”

He has been standing in the little park for a while, sunset quickly approaching, and there are so many ideas screaming at him, boiling impatiently in his mind. It is here that Akira witnessed Kazuya Makigami have his change of heart in front of his criminal gang and a handful of passers-by. He felt as if he couldn’t wait anymore, all the words just wanting to burst free from his chest. _I’m sorry. I was a bad friend to you. I am a bad friend to those who_ have _not let his side yet. I won’t ask you to be friends again, but I would like to ask for your forgiveness; I didn’t mean to drift apart the way I did. You still are important to me, a good friend._ “I’m so sorry.”

“Yusuke? What are you doing in this area? I have never seen you around before.” It was as if the universe was listening in on his pathetic pleas. “Naoya-kun, I was just reminiscing, I suppose, and I ended up here,” did he sound as distracted and distraught as he felt? He still hadn’t made eye contact, his body facing to the side, as if trying to run away from the confrontation he has so longed attempted to achieve but wasn’t ready for.

“Uh-huh. So, would you want to come eat at my place? It’s close by, and knowing you, you are most definitely hungry.” Always. Always on cue, his accursed stomach begins to rumble loudly at the mention of food. Naoya knows that much about him; he remembers, he has clung to that memory, kept it safely stored in his mind. _Friend._

               

                _“Makoto, Akira, Yusuke just asked if people could have their Personas awakened even now that the Metaverse has disappeared. I’m worried about what he might be implying. Have any of you experienced something related to that world since then? Perhaps Morgana?”_

_“I haven’t, personally, but it is concerning. He wouldn’t bring up the topic out of nowhere without a reason. Especially being him.”_

_“Uh-huh! And you, Akira?”_

_“This happened only about around like a week or so ago, but I did catch glimpses of the Velvet Room and Arsène. Weirdly enough, you were all chained up in the other cells. I thought I was just having nightmares-“_

_“Let me talk, too! So, I told Joker that yesterday I heard Master Igor’s calling. I don’t know how I could go back to the Metaverse, I never understood much about it, but it seems like it’s still there, only we don’t have access to it.”_

_“Hmm, I guess it could make sense, Jaldabaoth did mention that Igor has assisted others that awoke the power of the Wildcard before and that the form of the Velvet Room simply reflects the one who he currently aids. Could it be that another Wildcard has come?”_

_“I get where you’re coming from, Akira. But, then, why would he need our help? We did our part, now it’s whoever’s turn. Futaba-chan, does your mother’s research say anything about this?”_

_“Sad to say, mom didn’t get that far. They couldn’t understand that the Metaverse was a whole 'nother world. They just thought they went into people’s minds… So, what do we do about Inari?”_

_“Queen, could you handle this for me?”_

_“I’ll see what I can do. In case I don’t have time, I’ll talk to Haru so she can get the info out of him.”_

_“I’ll be on the lookout in case Inari is involved in weird stuff.”_

_“Thanks, guys. I miss you.”_

_“We do too. Sorry, I have to hang-up, I have a class to attend.” –_

_“Futaba, I’m worried about him.”_

_“We all are.”_

“Want omurice? I have ingredients for that.” His smile and sincere, and it both calms his heart and makes it thump harder. “Of course, anything will do. Your hospitality is enough.” His laugh is even more relaxed than he remembers. He feels proud of him for not holding onto grudges and forgiving his brother. “You’ve always been so formal. I wish you could relax a bit more. It makes me a bit nervous. Kind of makes me wonder how close we are or how close we can be.” At this, Yusuke feels shocked. “What do you mean?”

Naoya smiles sadly back at him, already heating up the eggs on his stove. “I have wondered, for a long time, if we are really friends or you just see me like a victim you saved?”

“Oh.”

He has lost the eye contact as Naoya seems to emptily stare in his general direction. The eggs sizzle. He had never minded burnt food that much, anyway. He reaches out.

“I must confess that, for the past month, at least, I have found myself conflicted about you. I doubted whether I was being a true friend to you, whether I was behaving adequately when we spent time together. I know I’m responsible for the rift that has come between us, but I thought that perhaps you preferred it that way. We don’t have much in common, I’m not the most fun person to pass time with and I can be unbearably hard to understand and deal with. I wanted to try and rekindle our bond, but what if you did not wish for that? Now, I realize my mistake.” He tightens his hold around Naoya’s hands, feeling the calluses that were probably born from wielding bamboo swords. “I want us to be friends, and I promise to try harder this time.”

He didn’t expect a burst of laughter as a reaction. Was he mocking him? “So, I can guess that you being formal is just you being you. I can’t believe I worried so much. Here I thought maybe you just pitied me and I was holding you back from doing more artwork. We’re both dumb. That must be why we’re friends.”

“Oh, but, Naoya-kun, please do guide me into becoming a proper friend and correct me when I fail at being so.” Now, a film of tears covers his eyes, but none fall, “No, Yusuke, just be you. And I’ll be me.”

.

.

.

“So, you’re having girl problems with a girl you don’t even like?” Their second attempt at cooking has better results, but their honesty was worth a couple of burnt eggs. “I do like her, just not as more than a friend.”

“Because you’re still dating the cool raven-haired guy?” Naoya, in spite of not having had continuous contact with them, as Akira with his confidants, still caught on quickly on the truth about the Phantom Thieves, but just as the volleyball player from Shujin, his gratefulness and admiration spurred him to keep quiet.

“Not anymore.” He was grateful that his friend did not prod him on. “Then, what exactly is your problem with this girl?”

“Have you noticed her before? The one transfer student that has followed me around often?” A chuckle teases him at that. “I admit, I’ve heard more than seen. Just saw it like 3 times, maybe. It made me laugh but also somewhat worried.” He shook his head in disappointment, “You should have worried more, although thanks to the interference of the rest, we, albeit tentatively, eased into a casual friendship. The problem lies in the fact that she’s infatuated with me while I am not. Apart from my prior boyfriend, I have never before been on the receiving end of someone else’s affection, so I do not know how to work around it, much less when we are friends, first and foremost.”

“Um, why don’t you give it a try if you find nothing wrong with her? I’m not trying to say you _have_ to become her boyfriend or even fall in love, much less be touchy and stuff. Just, go on casual dates, see where things could go, if they do go anywhere. If it fails, then she’ll realize you’re not right for each other and just move on. Then, you’ll just be friends. Don’t give me that look! If she really likes you that much, nothing you do will make her hate you. I bet she just prefers you being in her life than not at all.”

“So, you’re suggesting I date her, fail to bring her hopes down, and finally be left alone?” The heavily heaved sigh makes him flinch, expecting to be hit. “No. Yusuke, if you’re just not into girls at all, just say so. If that’s not it, I don’t see any harm with trying. In any case, you’ll just become even better friends because you’ll know each other more!”

“Alright, though I am still hesitant… Does that apply to us, too?” Naoya scrunches up his face in confusion. “What applies?” He hopes he’s not destroying any boundaries of comfort here. “Dating? To get to know each other better?”

“…I have to say it straight. I haven’t been attracted to men ever before.” Yusuke’s whole body is flooded by the searing heat of his shame, similar to how he fell victim of fire in Mementos. “Now, if at any point I’m up to it, and you are too, we can give it a try.” His warm, calming smile soothes his nerves. The few friends he’s managed to acquire are invaluable treasures.

 

. . .

 

“I wish I was like you, Hifumi-chan. All calm and collected. I’m just a living mess. I’m hopeless.” She didn’t enjoy annoying Hifumi this way at all. “You give too much importance to a single boy. Might I add, a boy who seems to only have art in his mind, and nothing more.”

“I don’t know! Maybe because he’s as metaphorical and lonely as I am!” Lord, what had she done? “I’m sorry, Hifumi-chan. I didn’t mean to snap, a-and I started liking him even before-” Her hand lifts, a barrier between their faces. Her eyes had been glaring. “Calm down already or you’ll make me lose my patience. I’m afraid to say, Shogi is my comfort zone, but being friends with such an emotional person is knew and there is not much advice I can provide in the way of relationships. I have never been in one. Perhaps we could take this to a more experienced ear?”

A flash of platinum blonde and blue came back to her mind, accompanied by the sound of teasing giggles. “I may know a person who might help.”

.

.

.

The gasp caught everyone’s attention, for sure. But her hands slamming down on the table and the clattering of glass maintained it. So embarrassing… “ _Why_ do you just call me now?! Ugh! Yusuke! That clueless pretty boy! I swear! I’m going to talk his ear off and then pull at it so hard it might come off!”

“Your friend here is quite lively, Daí Yì-chan.” She couldn’t help the bashful grin she shined at Hifumi. She really liked Ann a lot, she could just be as loud as the other blonde that accompanied her.

“Like, yeah! What the eff?! Dude’s head is way too up his ass with shit or something. Not even _I_ would do something like that, and I _suck_ at talking to chicks.”

“Oh!” The soft murmur of surprise that Hifumi muffled behind her hand couldn’t manage to hide her surprise at Ryuji’s colorful wording. “I’m just sick of all this dancing around with him. We finally were at peace, all was well, and then he just up and starts offending me and trying to push me away again. Why can’t he just make up his mind? Why can’t he trust me? I already told him I’m up to help him get back with Akira. It’s not like I’m trying to get in the way, I just can’t help but like him. And I was fine with it, I thought he was worth my feelings, even if he wouldn’t return them. But, GOD!” Oh, dear. She slammed the table, too… “WHY THE FUCK WOULD HE SAY I LIKE SENSEI and then basically _imply_ that he rather have me start _liking_ _sensei_ THAN HAVING TO DEAL WITH THE BURDEN OF MY FEELINGS?!”

“Damn, your Japanese _has_ gotten _better_. You’re ready to pick a fight on the street…” His eyes were wide as saucers, and she couldn’t help think that he’s such a goof getting surprised at a girl’s unhinged anger. Ann slaps the back of his head with an annoyed expression and Hifumi just giggles. “Yeah, the sensei part bothers me a lot…” Her eyes were pained, glossed over with tears. “I’m not justifying him, but if you think it through, all this mess is actually because he cares about you as a friend and he can’t bear the thought of hurting his own friend. Believe me, we’ve been on your end, too. Yusuke is very protective of those he’s fond of. And the fact that we’re so few… Even after all the Madarame thing, he still somehow finds it in himself to put others before him. It’s admirable.”

“Sure, he can be selfish when it comes to art, but even that selfishness has him starving himself or not sleeping to work on. This nutjob is just a very special case, man. But one can’t help but love the dude.”

She rolls her eyes and Hifumi grasps her hand in silent comfort. “Tell me about it…”

Ann grins and all the tension in the café seems to vanish. “We’ll talk to him, don’t worry. But just keep that in mind. It might hurt, but he was actually thinking about you and your happiness. It was _real_ stupid but sweet.”

“I agree with them, Daí Yì-chan. As I said before, Yusuke only has ever had art in his mind. He’s not the best when interacting with others, but all he meant was to protect you and not give you hopes he might not keep up with. Though, it was silly of him the way he did that and doing so in spite of you having told him that you weren’t expecting anything in return. I guess that explains what happened between Akira and him. Yusuke doesn’t understand that love is a free thing, not a debt. In a way, he is still under Madarame’s influence; he still believes life is a transaction.”

“Yes! Yes! That! Damn, no wonder Akira got excited whenever he told me he’d go play Shogi with you. You’re so smart and intuitive!” Hifumi, in turn, couldn’t believe she had been so harsh as to dismiss them the first time they had approached her. Even Ryuji, brash and vulgar as he was, had an honest and caring heart. She was thankful Akira had opened her heart to others.

“Yeah! You’re so cool! You’d get along with Mako and Haru, no problem!” She sighed dreamily, “And you _are_ as pretty as everyone says. Elegant through and through. One day, I’ll have us three together in a photoshoot!”

And Ann, as always, was too quick to become too friendly.

“I-I’m not sure. But thank you for the offer, Ann-san.”

 

. . .

 

“That dude! I swear he’s such a handful!” No matter the time of day it happened, they easily fell into their routine of walking together back home. “Yeah, but imagine if we hadn’t been able to help him back then… It still stings to remember back on how bad Yusuke was doing. Now, I can tell that, when I pointed out his painting out of all others in Madarame’s exhibit, he had gotten close to crying. I rather have to deal with his obliviousness now than having the guilt of whatever could’ve happened. Imagine if he-”

She didn’t need to say more for him to get at what she was hinting. If Haru’s father and Akechi’s deaths had dealt a harsh blow on their lives, he couldn’t even start to think about how it’d feel to have Yusuke’s death on their hands. “But we’re an amazing team. We’ll do it. We’ll help him. Man, the stupid pretty boy can be cute when he’s clueless.”

Ann slyly looked at him from under thick lashes, “Did hanging out with your best friend rub off his feelings on you?” He just chuckled and shrugged. ‘Course he understood what Akira felt when he talked about art boy, but he understood because he himself was in love with a clueless, hard-head.

“Nah, just get how he feels. It’s sweet, it’s frustrating, it takes your breath away in exasperation and admiration at the same time. But it’s worth all the trouble.” Her smirk only grew, and he wished she understood. “Ho-ho! And who is the lucky person that has you swooning so cutely?”

_Why would you be so curious? Do you really care?_ “I’ve liked you since elementary and you still haven’t noticed?”

…

… …

… … …

Did he? Just- Say what he was meant to think and think what he was meant to say?

He stumbled. Now, his leg injury seemed to spring back to life.

She caught him, surprise written all over her face. About his tripping or about his mistake?

And even against his instincts, because instincts weren’t controlled by the heart, that stupidly hot, soft, and vulnerable small organ of his that was about to burst, he broke into a run. A run that reminded him of so many things. Of a blonde girl that stared at him while he ran when he was only 9. Of how he lost the attention of that stare at the same time he gained a permanent pain to his leg, the hate of the entire school and the never-ending tears on his mother’s eyes. Of how he had run without even thinking of his life, but thinking of his teammates’ survival from a sinking ship while she screamed for him, cheering for him and calling in fear. Of happy tears that greeted him after. Of her escorting him home after that overwhelming night, hugging him in front of his building, not wanting to let go. _“I’m so glad you’re alive, track team star. I would never forgive you if you’d died on me.”_

He’s teasingly, playfully confessed to her many times before, and she had rejected him in kind. He was not ready to add a serious rejection to that list of memories.

 

. . .

 

“Akira! Did you know about this?! God, I didn’t say anything. I think he was crying when he left. God, I don’t know what to feel! I’d never thought of him that way. I always felt like we saw each other as siblings form another mother and-”

“Ann, breathe.” _Let me talk to her! What happened! Joker! Lady Ann needs me- Mreoow!_ The slamming of a door echoed while she tried to breathe.

“Ann, I suggest that you think back on Ryuji _since_ you first met. Don’t only think about the Ryuji that got his leg broken or the Ryuji that got himself into a Palace on accident. Think it through, okay? Take your time.”

“What is that, your motto? Is that the only advice you- No, yeah, you’re right, you’re right. Sorry.”

Why were his friends’ life suddenly so chaotic while he wasn’t around? “Now, Ann, let’s talk about something else. Take your mind off of things.”

“Well, Yusuke is being as Yusuke as ever, not knowing how to let a girl down and being her friend at the same time. Gotta work on that...” He knew that she sounded more annoyed than she actually was. She really loves meddling in love issues that don’t involve her. “Hmm, well, he is good at resisting change, remember?”

“Except for painting me nude…”

Now, an uncontrollable laugh pierced through their uneasiness. “Yeah, I mean, you _are_ hot, Ann. And he really did mean it when he said it was for his art. I can attest to that because he got me naked for a whole other reason,” he said with his smirk becoming audible through the growing mirth in his tone.

“Stop it, Akira! I already know you both had fun! No need to remind me! Anyway, yeah, this fangirl of Yusuke’s, she befriended Hifumi and we hung out a bit to listen about Yusuke’s thick-headedness. They’re fun girls, sweet yet kinda snarky, both of them. Very interesting, without a doubt. I don’t know why, but I felt that you would really like Daí Yì if you met her.”

“Oh? Because, I’m going to visit next week, remember? You sure? Think I could look for her and meet her?”

Her laugh, this time, is the sort that’s accompanied by gasps and snorts. What had she pictured? “You’d hella scar her, then she’d most likely threaten you to take back Yusuke or else she’ll take him away, and then she’ll probably panic about what she said and be a mumbling mess!”

He couldn’t help but smile. He bet Futaba would really like her too. “I already like the sound of that.”

 

After a more casual conversation about Ann’s job, Akira’s town, and Shiho, he fell into a deep sleep feeling both tired and restless at the same time.

_“Joker! Hey! Wake up already!”_

Why was Mona bothering him so soon? Hadn’t he just gotten like 4 hours of sleep?

_“Joker, wake up, please. My master is waiting.”_

Lavenza?! Now, that does it!

He jerks up. No door is separating him from the desk, just like the last time he remembered being here. He had broken the doors that held him prisoner. He walked forward, only to be held back by chains.

“Huh?”

“Surprised, are you? I am too! I didn’t expect to see this incarnation of the Velvet Room again. It’s the eeriest one up to date.”

He turns around, his smile less teasing than usual, Morgana and Lavenza walk out from behind him, each standing to either side of him.

“Rest assured, even though all your closest bonds are involved this time around too, you are not exactly the main character in this journey. At least, not only you.”

“So, are we expecting even more guests, master?”

“My, of course, Lavenza! Morgana, you should be able to tell when they arrive, just about-”

Morgana’s pupils dilate, his ears twitch wildly.

“Now!”

From the shadows of other cells opposite his, Akira manages to see the other prisoners revealing themselves, and his blood runs cold.

“Welcome to the Velvet Room, Emperor, Moon.”


	11. REVELATIONS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cards of fate have been dealt. Your hand has potential.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay!  
> Work and Inktober consumed me for too long.
> 
> The chapter's short, but I feel it is perfect as is.  
> Till next time!

“Welcome to the Velvet Room, Emperor, Moon.”

It had been too long, but this wasn’t the way he meant it to happen, it _should_ happen.

“Yusuke?”

He seemed as distraught and confused as himself.

“Akira?! Wha- Is this another dream?!”

He observed the other person in detail. Unlike Yusuke and himself, she wasn’t wearing a Thief costume. Of course, she wasn’t one.

“Who are you?” His dormant instincts kicked in, as if his body and mind had only last entered the Metaverse the day before. He kept his stance low and wide, ready to strike or defend. She wore Kōsei’s uniform, but he still remembered well how a well-manicured, uniformed idol had almost become his team’s downfall. He would not let his guard down, much less with Yusuke being in potential danger.

“I just followed the talking butterfly into the light and… Yusuke-kun?! Is that you?!”

Two pairs of widened eyes stared at each other. “Daí Yì-chan. It can’t be. This, is it a dream or not?”

So this was the famous exchange student? “A butterfly, you say. Lavenza, was it you? Did you bring her here for Igor?”

The girl shakes her head with slight sadness. “I understand the basis of your accusations, however, it was not me who lead her here. As my master mentioned, we did not expect to come back to this version of the Velvet Room nor did we plan to see you again. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“Shì-a! She’s telling the truth. The butterfly I followed had a man’s voice. It was smooth and soothing. He sounded kinda young.”

A silly chuckle burst forth from between Igor’s gritted teeth. “It would seem that my own master has plans to unravel. I wonder what this is about… Well, there’s no point in interfering as usual, then. He knows what he is doing.” He extends his hand towards Lavenza. “Now, then. Let’s see about that contract.”

The Persona compendium materializes on her hands and she hands it over to his gloved fingers.

“Let’s see. Hmm, ah! Yes, it seems our contract will not be renewed. Instead, a new one is to be forged.” He sighs with an air of melancholy, “It has been years since I have had to assist a person in such irregular circumstances. The last time… My Velvet Room was packed with Wild Card users. 5 of them at a time, if I remember correctly. No matter. Moon! Step forth, please!”

They were all still. Morgana, thankfully, chose to break the silence. “Um, master, who are you talking about?”

“Well, our new guest, of course.”

Yusuke takes a hesitant step towards the woman beside him, gesturing as if meaning to grab her shoulder. “Daí Yì-chan, it seems he’s referring to you.”

Naturally, she chose to take a step back. “No! What is all this Moon and butterfly business? Who are you, people? Where am I? Why are is Yusuke dressed like that?”

Akira’s leader instincts kick in, but Yusuke is quicker to respond, “I will dispel your greatest concerns and reassure you. We are not in danger, we have been here before, we _all_ have met before. This is no dream, this is real, yet this place does not exist in reality.”

The long-nosed man chuckles with amusement, “Indeed. This place exists between dream and reality, mind and matter. My name is Igor, I am delighted to make your acquaintance. You have been brought here by my master, Philemon.

Your powers are hidden deep within your heart. Like a god or devil, it is "another self". Like a god, filled with love. Like a demon, merciless. Humans go through life with many faces. Your current appearance is just another face. And so is your Persona; one of many."

Igor laughs wickedly, a clear sound that conveys playfulness, “Ah! I see. It’s been well over a decade that a contract of this sort had been forged. Hmm, interesting.”

Akira cannot help but twitch and fumble in place, confused and frustrated at the incomprehensible situation. “Well, what is it? What exactly is going on?”

Igor turns his eyes to him with a grin that is both unsettling and awkward. “She will be a Wildcard temporarily, yet you shall remain Trickster. She will be granted access to the power of the bonds that you yourself had forged over a year ago. Her mission is to help develop those bonds to awaken their ultimate form.”

Lavenza steps forward, smiling pleasantly as she finally seems to have a grasp of what’s happening. “An interesting mix of strategies that none has ever followed before, yet one that seems promising, nonetheless.”

Morgana leaps onto Igor’s table moving his arms wildly, “Wait, wait, wait. I still don’t understand. What does this all mean? What’s it for exactly?”

“You may have noticed how the presence of your Persona still lies within you,” Lavenza explained, “This has not been the norm for plenty of years. Not since 1999. That was the last group of Persona users that were allowed to have their powers remain forever within them. More recent awakenings have only been returned for specific purposes when alterations between the worlds beyond and the human realm endangered mortals.”

Igor continued, “The reason why your Personas remain is that you never fully developed them, meaning, your friendships, your bonds,” Ignored stared gravely at Akira, “they have not reached closure. You have given them up half-way. You have grown complacent, satisfied with what you’ve accomplished and have not finished through. This is your sin, the same one you have battled against when it presented itself in others. You have let the mediocrity of society infect you, hence why my master has miraculously offered his aid in the way of a new bond, a new Thief that will join your ranks in order to push you all to your maximum potential.”

Lavenza bows at Akira while his blood runs slow and cold with guilt, “Greatness is still within your grasp. The key lies within you three to jumpstart the chain reaction that will free your true souls once and for all. The Metaverse is still no more, but remember, life and its people, _that’s_ what gives you your strength. So whether you present yourself in uniforms of in costumes, what you must seek is to be your mask-less selves.”

“Now,” Igor snaps his fingers and a book opens before Daí Yì, “sign this contract and become the light that guides The Phantom Thieves to their true beginning.”

…

 _Phantom Thieves?_ She’d heard of them. They’d been viral on a global scale. Her literature teacher had gone out of her way to modify the curriculum and have them briefly go over some western classic tales of vigilantes of all sorts.

Yusuke, Akira, Ann, Ryuji, Futaba, Haru… Were they all part of The Phantom Thieves?!

She would never have expected to be put in such a situation, to have coincidentally become associated with their group.

 _Although, Igor_ did _say it was not a coincidence._

She had been chosen because she was expected to awaken the same supernatural powers they had. All to save them from themselves. All so they all could become the best versions of themselves with the help of each other.

… _Do I really love Yusuke, then? Or is this all a god’s game? Are my feelings real or where they implanted in me just so I would become involved with the infamous group of friends?_

And what about when all was said and done? Was she just going to be taken away and disappear from their lives? As if she had never met them at all? Was she just meant to fix them and then move along like nothing?

She didn’t want this.

She didn’t ask for this.

She asked to be saved, no to be forced to save others.

She hadn’t even been able to save herself all these years!

What was she meant to do? Why did she have to do this? _Why?_

…

Before them, a bone-chilling scene developed and Yusuke felt his fingertips and his entire face prickle with pain and the ghost sensations of running blood.

Heat and cold enveloped him in crashing waves.

And the anger and anguish in Daí Yì’s face stopped his heart with fear.

 

_Why would you allow fear spread like a poison in your heart?_

_There are more terrifying sites._

_It is true that fate and human hearts are a terrifying site,_

_But you must impose your light,_

_Vanquish the dark and tower over all,_

_Even the gods that have forsaken you!_

_Roar to the heavens, make them shake,_

_So you may reveal your radiance!_

 

“C O M E,  E N H E D U A N N A !”

 

… _What have they done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if someone were interested in helping me develop Enheduanna as a Persona (appearance and abilities), let me know in the comments.
> 
> I will still do it, either way, but I know some people enjoy the process of fanmade Persona creations, so, yeah.


	12. PENITENCE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s a price to pay for every action or inaction, and no creature in existence is above consequence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! So, this chapter is short, too, but I feel that it's a good emotional transition that finally gets us into the thick of the plot of this first story. 
> 
> Do keep in mind that this is the first of a series that will include one-shots after this immediate story as a way to see further relation and character developments before the multi-chapter sequel (that will also have some accompanying one-shots for extra, post-story interactions).
> 
> Enjoy!

The paper, _the contract_ , burned blue, turning into ashes. And from those ashes arose some sort of harpy. Made of black and golden ashes that didn’t quite hold together, as if she was a spirit made up of the residues of a sandstorm that clung to the wind, golden, sharp talons, an almost sheer, smoky cloak danced about loosely around her torso, huge globes of what seemed almost like lightning hung from her earlobes and a huge turban covered with golden coins similar to a crown towered over long, black tresses made of ethereal soot that hovered like a black mane. Her hands held a giant gold ring each that she moved menacingly as she swayed, almost dancing, in both a sultry and threatening way. But what caught his eyes most, what held him in place, was her face. In place of a mouth and nose, a delicate yet sharp beak curved downward and enormous almond-shaped eyes that were hypnotizing and menacing. The wise and terrifying face of an owl woman stared back at him.

He had awakened first, felt the fear of the supernatural and the thrill of freedom humming and pulsing through his veins building up to the desperation of tearing away the flesh around his eyes. He had been burning with hatred towards the abusive adults that actively seek to hurt him, hurt _them_ , the vulnerable youngsters that were commanded to bow their heads and live in silence while adults ran havoc in the world as they pleased. That selfishness had awakened his hatred.

He knew that pain, that confusion, that weakness, but he didn’t know this. This was completely different to what every one of them had felt at that moment. This was the dread that had almost tipped him back to his personal hell once he discovered the disguised god that was playing him like a puppet. He was lucky he had Lavenza with him to have strength, but at this moment, the enigmatic Daí Yì held hate for humans and gods alike. She had found despair unlike any he had felt.

Her hand had been forced. She had lived unwillingly for a period of time; she had been manipulated for a good part of an entire year, perhaps more? All because of them. All because of _him_. He’d failed the journey of the Fool. He’d failed by not wanting to complete it, by just feeling everything was alright enough. Perhaps that’s why he’d failed Yusuke. Maybe he was the reason that Yusuke hadn’t learned to move on and clung on his presence. He hadn’t tried hard enough. He hadn’t tried all the options. And so, he had given up on him, too.

… _What have we done?_

_…_

… _What have I done?_

_I allowed this to happen. I **made** this happen._

_Daí Yì, forced to such anguish because of **me**. _

_My failure. **Always a failure.**_

**_Useless._ **

“Please, Philemon, whatever you are, please _stop this_. If we have failed, let us pay the price, but, please, leave Daí Yì out of this. Leave her alone! Please. I want her safe. I, at least, must protect her.”

He let himself fall to his knees in helplessness. He had told them he wanted no more of this. He just wanted to start a normal life. No more danger. No more hurting. But, he had brought it upon her, unknowingly.

A purple butterfly stood landed on his right hand.

_“This is not a punishment from my part. This is a means to protect you from further involving yourselves in matters that are not from your world. This is a plan to let your hearts grow and be set free from what binds your souls, to this place and to the prison that is human society. You must live through your own hearts and not what others’ wills dictate. Separate your selves from the masses and become who you truly are, what you were meant to be. Only then will you regain true normality. Happy, fulfilled lives. Honest lives. So, please, let me help you help yourselves.”_

The butterfly took flight once again, hovering in front of the newly awakened Persona. _“Allow your spirits to spread their wings and fly towards new heights. Reach out to your hope and your potential. Transform!”_

At that moment, the butterfly grew, its wings becoming white with splotches of red extending inward from their edges, then limply fell into Igor’s hand in the form of a paper.

Silence hovered thickly in the room.

“Well, then. I’ll take this as a sign that the contract is complete. Moon is now bound to her mission. It is destiny, but it is of her choosing-.”

Yusuke stood up, growling in anger. “Nonsense! I did not see her agreeing with any of this. In any case, she became enraged with the prospect of this burden. How dare you-!”

A small hand grasped one of his. “Yusuke-kun. It’s alright.”

He turned back to face Daí Yì, her eyes now enveloped by the glow of a golden butterfly mask, her Persona long gone. He took the sight in, clearly. A nearly sheer golden veil hung from where it was attached to the lower edge of her mask, obscuring her features lightly.

A sheer, black hood, held in place by a small golden headpiece that laid on her forehead, covered her head that, unraveling down to wrap around her neck like a scarf, ends strung loosely in a diagonal across her torso like a sash. Her sleeves, mad of the same semi-transparent black fabric, clung to her like a second skin to her elbows to then flare open in loose, wide sleeves made of satin that revealed golden metal arm guards underneath. The rest of her one-piece suit had black satin that hugged her chest and waist, where a thick, golden belt gave way to loose, slightly puffed pants that clung back at her ankles, lost in a pair of black metal boots. Barely anything of his friend was left visible, and only the silhouette of her nose and mouth were somewhat distinguishable besides her glimmering brown eyes framed in gold, lightening their color to a soft honey.

“I want to protect you, too, Yusuke.”

She looked ready for battle, ready to sneak around quietly among danger, ready to dance elegantly with the swishing of blades, _ready to steal hearts_.

And yet, hidden under all those wrappings, he thought it emphasized her vulnerability, her need of an escape, her yearning to open up. She was not weak, but she could sometimes feel like it.

He couldn’t help but bring her closer to offer comfort, taking off his mask before taking of hers; no walls standing between the emotions painted on their faces. He chose to forget where they were and who was watching; chose to ignore his thief suit, how holding her like this brought her face to his bare chest, the warmth of her cheeks and her shuddering breath on his own skin, lips trembling into a sad smile tracing his sternum, and cold wetness running between them.

He thought as much. Thought that she was ready to cry in empathy for all of them, but maybe not for herself. If she was to complete this mission no matter what, the least he could do was to ensure that she would also find the light of relief and self-love at the end of it all. He lowered her hood and buried his face in her hair, no longer only offering comfort, but also seeking it.

He would be damned before he’d let her suffer from being involved with this god’s play. “I’ll be right next to you through all of this, _I promise you_.”

A soft sob wracked its way out, “I believe you.”

_…_

As he stared with the pain of sorrow, regret, and the ghost of jealousy tightening his chest and throat, he couldn’t help but feel proud and fearful. _You’ve grown, Yusuke. You still have a ways to go, but you’ve started. Maybe you don’t need me anymore._

…

He thought he’d gone crazy. Had the clock really frozen at midnight? Was it broken? Did it not work? He was half tempted to ask Futaba about it.

Was the kid okay? Did something like this have to do with their fancy shenanigans and Wakaba’s research? That wouldn’t make sense. She researched human minds, not time.

                _Little did Sojiro know that for an entire hour, the flow of time had stopped for all the Thieves and the confidants the Trickster had met along the way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sources of inspiration for Daí Yì’s thief outfit: (Heads-up, I'm very much into The Legend of Zelda.)
> 
> Mark22’s War Nabooru - https://www.goodfon.com/wallpaper/war-nabooru-gerudo-the-legend.html
> 
> This Gerudo Zelda design https://www.pinterest.de/pin/253468285259664229/ by Onisuu; you can find her on Deviantart, Tumblr, and Twitter with the same name and on Instagram as mayoronisuu (her LOZ is worth a follow).
> 
> And finally, her head piece is based on Midna’s from Twilight Princess.


	13. SHADOW

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The shadow of a woman looms over my heart.

For the first time, ever since, more than a year ago, his dreams of the Velvet Room began, he awoke right after. No sunshine greeted him nor the soft glow of his personal green constellation swallowed by wooden rafters in an attic he could call home. Two bright blue eyes stared back instead, the pressure in his chest blooming from the weight of paws, or perhaps from the pain in his heart, he couldn’t tell.

“Akira, do you remember?” He grunted, trying to lift himself to sit, but his mental exhaustion, his yearning was too heavy. “Yeah, I mostly do. Only… Don’t remember how or when we left.” Morgana stepped off his chest to curl next to his head, offering comforting warmth while holding eye contact, keep him awake, for a change. “When I felt as if things weren’t done for me, that I had to find out how to become human… I never thought that all our unresolved feelings would become more than a normal everyday problem in our minds. Now…”

A sigh. “I feel it’s my fault.” A rustle of covers, almost strangling him in his cocoon. He wished they would tighten to their limit. “I was responsible for building the bonds. I thought we’d done well enough, that it was a life thing to just keep getting better slowly. That all I needed was to provide the first nudge, push, shove, whatever. That we’d all heal over the years at our own pace.” Dry throat and burning guts. “I didn’t-.”

A tongue brushes his cheek. Gross. Comfort. “It isn’t your fault, Akira. I thought the same. We _all_ thought the same. Maybe… Maybe the whole thievery business took up too much of our time. Maybe it took too much out of _us_. To have been trying to move on from our own personal things while we tried to save the world and, mistakenly, try to get everyone’s attention for fame. We needed time we couldn’t afford to have. But now-.”

“Do you think he was right after all? I’m not- I’m not saying _we_ did the evil things that happened. We know that’s not how it was. But, do you still think that just the fact that we did use the Metaverse at all means we-.” A hiss that stings his mind. A peal of echoing laughter, and perhaps the alarms are really blaring again. “We’re _not_ criminals. Maybe there were other solutions, yes. But, what? Would you rather have waited until you were taken back to jail, Shiho had really died, Ryuji was expelled and Lady Ann was raped?! Would you have waited until Yusuke killed himself or got killed? What about Futaba and Haru? Even Akechi-.”

A sob. Trembling. Try to _breathe._ “You’re right. We did what we had to. There was no more waiting. And Akechi, Shido, there was nothing else.” “Nothing else, exactly,” finished Morgana simultaneously.

“Now, let’s sleep. I’ll let you hug me this one time. I don’t want you to wake up again and interrupt my beauty sleep.” A half-hearted, heavy, wet chuckle. His lungs rattled. “Okay.” And as he buried his face in soft, sleek fur, he was reminded of nights in which he was enveloped by soft, long bangs while he was cradled in the hollow of a neck, a space he thought he belonged in.

A sigh, a prayer, “Yusuke”.

He sank into a fitful sleep immersed in black and gold silks and dark butterflies.

_…_

Empathy. That’s what Daí Yì stood for. In the midst of the lingering clouds of self-hate, a golden heart lay dormant, a soft beat calling out for something to let it free. He understood that feeling. He himself had thought that, if allowed to interact with others, his heart would become drenched of feelings he only knew as vague words with no meaning and stereotypical imagery accompanied by color theory. If only he was allowed to have friends, he’d become the most emotional person ever, and he’d embrace it. But caged-up he had remained, no unlike her. Though her chains were wrapped around her by her own hand, the suffocating feeling was as real as Madarame’s hand.

Madarame. The man who had stolen his heart from him by force, before he even knew about anything. When they took back the original Sayuri, they had stolen his. But now that he’d seen a metamorphosis develop under his eye, now that he’d seen how a butterfly was born, he realized that Madarame’s heart had previously been stolen.

“August twenty-third… After that, only seven days left of summer vacation. A month without seeing Daí Yì, until tonight.” The empty room offered no answer. “Perhaps I should pay a visit this time.” _I had hoped Akira would be by my side, but no matter. I need to know._

.

.

.

Fuchū Prison. He had never written its address, never seen its walls. Had Madarame been imprisoned in a special ward for elders? Did he have a cane there? Did they get haircuts, shavings? He felt disgusted with himself at his inner questions. Why should he care? He hoped he got meals as pathetic and bland as what he was forced to eat along with the rest of his former pupils. He wished to see him look even skinnier, bony and, as he’d made Yusuke.

Deep in his heart, he knew those wishes of his were merely distractions his mind concocted to hold in the tears that threatened to come forth from the dam of his lashes. _Because he **was** once my father. Because he took me to the hospital in the dead of night. Because he held me as he read to me, picked me up when I’d distractedly trip over and over again. Let me choose my childhood clothes according to my own developing aesthetics. _

**_Why?!_ **

“Since he’s old, we’ll allow you more time. Don’t worry, we won’t be able to listen, but there’ll be guards watching all the time. If you feel threatened or need help, press the button that will be right in front of you on the table. We won’t let him touch you, kid.”

His impassive gaze did not betray his unease at how the guard had portrayed his previous foster father as a cold criminal. _But he is, and they know I was his biggest victim._

The door opened, a mostly empty room lined with windows too high for anyone to reach even with the assistance of the table brought him some sense of relief. And on one of two chairs. Slightly sunken cheeks and eyes, all black of his hair drowned by harsh whites and pale grays, the last matching the seemingly too big, too lose prison uniform. His mustache and beard were only a bit longer, a bit unkempt, but rough stubble peppered what was once usually left clean-shaven.

Emptiness was all he found in his hollow, frail face. A cuffed, papery hand prompts him to sit. His voice is gruffer, weak and rumbling with sadness, “I had come to believe I’d never know anything of you again. In the beginning, I’d _hoped_ so.” A humorless chuckle’s coughed out. “But as your birthday came around, I _feared_ so.” A sheen of tears glimmered in his darkened stare.

“I didn’t come last year because the wound was too fresh for both of us. I’m glad of my decision.” He fiddled with his fingers. “Have you had the chance to practice art? I’ve heard there are recreational activities offered here for… therapeutical purposes.”

Madarame hums lowly, “I started going to the class since December. I have never been able to do anything. But I still go every day.”

Yusuke nods absentmindedly. Just as he’d been stuck in before Akira. “Sen- I mean.” A pause. “I’ve been wanting to ask you, how did you meet my mother?” He swallows thick, dry air.

“I was her teacher.” A huff of frustration, “I know that already! You took her in under your wing as any other pupil and then took advantage of her. Tell me!” He had started rising from his chair. He stopped, slumped back down in defeat and shame at his outburst. Inhale. Exhale. “Please, tell me. I need to know…”

Madarame sighs. “I was her teacher in college. After I graduated, I made several attempts at becoming an independent artist and open my own private studio, with a space for exhibitions. In my eagerness to share my art with the world, I made myself blind of reality. Life is not that easy. So I ended up on the streets after months without recognition and having barely scraped a few coins from drawing caricatures on the street as a last resource. A former classmate of mine found me in Shibuya. He offered an option: go back to college and teach. I had been a good student, surely I could get the chance, as help is always needed with such a subjective course.”

He sighed in melancholy, “After a few months, I met her. Her art was stunning, her heart as well. She praised my skill, my patience, my ability to convey my teachings and inspire ideas, not only technique. I saw her through several semesters, offering pointers, helping with theory. Suddenly, she disappeared.”

Silence, hesitation. He carried on with a burden that lowered his already slouched back and hunched shoulders. “Some years later, I found her in Shibuya trying to sell paintings near the metro. Her belly was swollen. She was all dressed in black. Fear caught my heart at the sight.”

He joined his hands in front of him atop the desk, interlacing his fingers in a harsh grasp, knuckles popping and whitening. Between grit teeth, he continued, “She had to drop out of her studies because they had discovered she had a disease. She had only found out after an accident. A seizure that paralyzed her, dropped her in the middle of the street. She awoke in the hospital, bills higher than anything she could pay.”

His eyes looked out the windows high above them, “Her family didn’t help her, you see. Art was not a career path, in their opinion. But, she met another patient at the hospital. Another neurological disease, she didn’t explain it well. He listened to her in her panicked grief at having just realized she suffered from something she couldn’t control and having no way of moving forward with life. He supported her. In the hospital, out of it. They fell into a rhythm as if they’d always known each other. Soon enough, they married, declaring theirs was true love at first sight. But before their first anniversary… Your father.”

Yusuke understood, “He died.”

“A seizure claimed his life. He had taken several odd jobs to better support your mother and him, to pay for the medications and to care for your mother during her pregnancy. He had been in a night shift of a recently acquired job. Window cleaner. It was an eighteenth floor. His colleague hadn’t known about his condition. He fell.”

Tears welled. “Your mother was left with barely anything. She had to make ends meet. So she tried to sell art on the streets while carrying you and not having the proper time to grieve.”

Yusuke shifted. “As her former teacher, I felt I had to offer her my support, so I took her in. During her pregnancy, she became like a daughter to me. To have more time to dedicate to her and her health, I resigned from college but announced that I’d be offering private lessons in my home at a, comparatively, cheap price. And students flooded in.”

A small smile curled on his lips as he reminisced. “Your mother, ever the stubborn woman, joined the lessons even when sick or weak. The other students helped her. She became like an older sister figure to them, regardless of actual ages.” A small grin, now. “Then you were born and more students came wanting to help with gifts, with care, with coddling you.” He shook his head in delight, “We all became a big family.”

His face darkened once more, “You were still learning how to walk when she suddenly got worse. I couldn’t keep up with the money since now we had to prioritize your growth and I couldn’t expect your mother to get a job when so weakened. She painted less, it took more of her. Her glow was dying. And in those dying moments, her masterpiece came.”

He gritted his teeth once more. This time, a dark scowl was strewn over his wrinkles, “She didn’t want to part with it. She preferred to keep it because of sentimentalities instead of thinking of the survival of all of us three! She was being selfish, delusional. I had considered abandoning her, to have her see the harsh truth of reality. He needed to put survival first!”

He went slack, eyes empty and unfocused, “So when she collapsed before me during dinner while you were sleeping in her futon, I made the decision. She’d have to be sacrificed in order to ensure our lives, both of us, Yusuke! I left her there and the next day, I picked you up and in the haziness of your sleep, I slipped out and took the painting to the university’s Art Department. That moment guaranteed our futures!”

Yusuke’s quickened pulsed rushed with a pounding force through his ears. “But then, we had to go back home and you saw your mother. You didn’t understand, of course. You went to sleep next to her and wait for her to awake. My heart bled for you then. That pushed on to me the epiphany. I’d become your father. So I took your mom in the middle of the night when all was quiet and you still slumbered and left her body slumped next to the nearest convenience store. The next day, a young woman was found, collapsed from heart failure while trying to buy groceries for her son.”

He smirked coldly. “I took legal responsibility of you. And all the students, why, they mourned but never suspected. They offered to pay more willingly! All to help me raise you! Even when they saw that I presented my latest work, _the “Sayuri”,_ at an exhibit and money started to come in! We did fine, fine, fine, until you reached middle school. Education is expensive, Yusuke, you must know that. You’re still in Kōsei with a scholarship, but you know what it entails. And if you were to be the famous Madarame’s foster son, you had to have the best. That’s when the fake Sayuri’s were needed when more pupils were needed-.”

“When you filled your wallet while I was slowly turned into a barebones, poor puppet while you fled to a mansion and the breast of a mistress that was in love with your lies and dirty money! When you made me into a submissive, frightened child that had nothing but a blank canvas and cold paint under his nails in an empty shack!”

Madarame gasped, “Don’t you see, Yusuke! I did this for you, too!”

“Do not mock me,” Yusuke interrupted, bellowing in anger, “I am not the ignorant fool you tricked once before!”

Silence again. Yelling wouldn’t do any good. Yusuke combed his finger through his hair, fixing himself as he stood. “Still, I at least got my answer today. Farewell.”

Madarame stood, enraged, “We’re not finished, get back here, boy! Don’t you dare turn your back on the great Madarame-!”

Yusuke didn’t turn, but he smirked grimly, “I still cannot believe it, sensei, but it is true. That you once loved me, that you once truly loved her.”

The echo of his departure taunted Madarame for the rest of his day with the broken promise of a happy birthday.

 

_“Daí Yì, have you stolen my heart in the way my mother stole Madarame’s?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I tend to write stuff that makes me want to cry.
> 
> Comments on this chapter are welcomed and even encouraged. Feedback is greatly appreciated.


	14. REPRESSED DÉJÀ VU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The past haunts and taunts, dangling the memories of your past traumas and insecurities in front of your eyes like the forbidden fruit you never let go of.
> 
>  
> 
> (This could be considered to be the second part of the previous chapter.)

Thankfully, he woke up again to the night-black comfort of Morgana, the only darkness that didn’t bring back negative thoughts to his mind. The purring that started resounding soothingly against his cheek and forehead was a sign that his friend knew he had awoken but didn’t want to leave the safety of his daze on the bed.

“You know, there’s no shame in loving people. Love can change through time, many times. You should actually be proud that you care so much for so many people. You’re a good person, Akira. Already a great man.”

“Think I did what was right? With Yusuke, I mean.” Mona turned around, still curled up to Akira, but now nuzzling his face instead of offering the curve of his back. “Seems like it. Master Igor said we have stuff still pending. And as I see it, now it’s better for each to see things through, not without friends, but without being afraid of facing your true selves. You- we can’t keep hiding behind the comfort of each other.” He gently licked under Akira’s chin to keep his drifting gaze’s attention. “Just like Yusuke decided to take the first step against the God of Control to urge us to go on, we have to do the same. We have to move forward, not hiding behind someone else’s back, but taking each step clearly ourselves, while they push on our backs so we don’t fall.”

Akira sometimes forgets that, for all that Mona can act childish and had felt lost and unsure, he can be quite mature and an excellent voice of reason. Perhaps that was a thing that went with beings from the Velvet Room. He couldn’t help to laugh softly, like wind chimes swaying lightly at dawn. “What are you laughing at?” A frown and a twitch of whiskers made his heart slow again, “Think I should pay a visit to Daí Yì when we go visit?”

At least Akira was certain of one thing, he still loved Yusuke, even if perhaps Yusuke did not love him back anymore.

_…_

“Ann. Ann! ANN! Listen to meee~! You won’t believe what Yusuke told me over the phone!”

Futaba received a wincing glance; concern and Yusuke always seemed to go hand-in-hand in Ann’s mind. “He didn’t buy another sea creature, did he? Two lobsters? Well, okay. A starfish for a friend and as decoration, pass. An eel, a _goddamn eel!_ ” Her sigh would fall short when she got to hear the stupid shit Yusuke had _actually_ done.

“No weird purchase, **worse**. He decided he’ll treat that girl, Daí Yì, as a sister. He says he wants to be close and he wants to be her confidant and vice versa, and he started asking me about the, and I quote, “siblinghood dynamic developed between Akira and me”. What the actual fuck?!” The groan that Ann let out and the way she let her head fall harshly onto the table would be only the prelude.

“Yeah, but here this! Then he goes on and says that he wants to grow closer to her faster so he can help her better and says he will actually take her out on fucking _dates_ to get to know her! Yusuke! Dating! A girl that has an actual crush on the weirdo! And he just uber friend-zoned her! Sister-zoned! Let me have at him, I’ll murder that noodle boy myself!” How had Akira loved that hollow-headed stick of an Inari?! Yeah, he was gorgeous and, yeah, Akira did say he was surprisingly passionate and spicy, but, boy, was he clueless. And somewhat innocent (read as ignorant) as he might be, he kept dragging poor Taiwan girl all over the place, and soon the blood of her heart would be smeared all over along with tears and snot.

Akira had claimed he had plowed Yusuke before, now she was going to do so with her fists to make sure he stayed underground in the company of the devil. No mercy could be granted. “As much as I want to kill him too right now, first, calm down ‘Taba, you’re seething and probably hyperventilating.”

The sigh became a full-blown exhale that had her head hurting, ears popping and her body going limp like a headless chicken. Hehehe, boneless chicken~. “Didn’t those two have a fight not long ago about him friend-zoning her? Won’t this just hurt her more? I mean, I love baka-Inari, but if I were her, I’d feel like he’s just playing with me, and I hate that. I hate that my friend is hurting her like this.” Ann rubbed her arms to coax her into sitting and once she did, tugged her back into her lap to coddle her. It was funny how she could be an intellectual genius among their group, but at the same time, she was the baby sister. She didn’t mind them babying her much. It felt like her mother’s comfort, and it was priceless.

“We’ve tried talking to him so many times, I don’t know if it’ll work if we try that now. I’m worried about both of them. I’m- also worried about Aki.” She felt Ann shudder against her back. Just like her and all the Thieves, they couldn’t take it when any of them went through something bad. Not them. Not again. “So… let him crash and see what happens? Do some emergency controlling? Or, what else?”

Ann kept in silence for a while and Futaba thought that maybe she had fallen asleep by accident, but then her question proved her wrong, “Futaba, Akira’s coming this month, isn’t he?”

 

_…_

 

She had proven useless to her family. Unwanted. She had to fit the mold they’d made for her. How could she love _and_ hate the place she could barely call home?

But, now, she had a purpose. She was scared, but she could be of help. She could help the guy she liked. Wow… She liked a guy. She liked a guy enough that she was willing to come out of hiding within herself and be brave for him. She liked a guy that was so much more than she’d ever expected from a human being. And his friends, they were so good, too. This seemed like the fiction she used to escape. Like the lies, she told herself to cope.

But, then, there was him. **_Akira_**. He had looked so confused, so defensive, so _hurt_ throughout it all. He loved him. And he loved him. Was she really helping if she did so for the selfish spark of hope she had that, maybe, one day, Yusuke would look at her the same way? Did she deserve to try and reach out? She wanted to, but after she’d seen Akira, what little she could observe of his eyes hidden behind a mask, she felt her heart go soft. Yusuke had said Akira wanted him to learn how to be happy and independent, but she felt Akira needed that himself. Sure, he wasn’t hanging on to his friends in the same city, he actually came off as somewhat distant. But that was exactly it. When Yusuke could be clingy and starve for attention, acting melodramatic and exuberant; Akira was guarded, aloof, quiet. The same need shone in their eyes, just like their potential to love strongly. She wanted the hollowness of need to disappear forever and so only the tender fire of their hearts glowed.

She would make it happen, whether she stayed in the picture or not.

Turn them into golden butterflies.


	15. BACK ON TRACK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actions must be taken after sins of omission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be ready for shorter chapters, but more frequent updates.
> 
> Also, at exactly the last line, the self-harm tag comes into play. It's just a poetic allusion of the action again, way lighter than Yusuke's panic with the break-up. The actual angst will come in the next chapter.  
> And take note that this is rated T, I won't go into detail of the self-harm (I have hematophobia anyway, so that'd be masochistic and hypocritical of me).

He kept wondering why he had insisted on forming a plan to set a safe distance between his heart and hers. Surely, if something was bound to turn out wrong, she wouldn’t blame him. Not entirely. She knew what she was getting into. She knew that there was no space available for her, at least not _all of her_. He could not accommodate yet another foreign object of affection into his still open and bleeding heart. But he could not keep making excuses.

And, really, she had said it was fine if nothing ever blossomed in this new space between them that they shared. She was fine just offering to be another helping hand. Why was it that it bothered him? She was no Akira, but she was also not like his other friends, like the Thieves. She was caught in a middle-ground and he was terrified of using her the way Madarame had used him and his family.

He would give up on the idea of asking her to be his “artistic sister” of sorts. Ironically enough, though Akira and Futaba acted and referred to each other as siblings, through his relationship, he had somewhat also become part of the family and that still remained. After it all, Sojiro still fathered him as much as he could and Futaba was always checking up on him and bullying him like the sister she had turned out to be. He was ever grateful that Akira cutting things off hadn’t meant a change in the rest of his life. He _was_ lonelier, lacking a soulmate that he could share absolutely everything with, bare his mind and body and allowed to be free. And in spite of the girls’ physical affections, it didn’t compare to huddling on a small bedframe in a drafty attic, wrapping himself around the one person that would do the same, keeping both the cold from his bones and his yearning at bay.

If only his parents were here to offer their knowledge. Maybe they could help him parse through his utter confusion, this societal constipation that he was raised for. Another way of Madarame achieving his goal of hindering Yusuke’s sense of independence without having destroyed his superficial observational skills draw inspiration from the world. He knew how to look, but did not know how to interpret, _what_ he was looking for.

“Well, my height has always been an asset. Perhaps, it’d be a good idea to pay her a visit.” Going to Sojiro now didn’t feel appropriate to him. How could he talk about his intimacies with Akira and his very tentative explorations regarding Daí Yì? He needed a person that offered paternal guidance along with casual friendship, not to judge, but not to be forgiving either.

So, he looked for green trench coat, his black heeled boots and, looking as smart and proper as any adult out there, determinedly headed towards the red light district. He could very well pull it off, as long as he didn’t attract attention to himself with his artistic impulses. No, he was on serious business. Art would have to wait.

.

.

.

Thankfully, he could smoothly resist the heat. He hadn’t broken into a sweat despite of the long walk nor had caught the attention of any police officers. He couldn’t say the same about the wandering merchants on the streets that harassed him for his good looks and apparent wealth (if only they knew the truth). He managed to stay focused even after having glimpsed at some jewelry and the ever-famous stall of Chihaya (a visit he’d perhaps better planned for another day if things went downhill).

Finally, the welcoming red signed beckoned him in, relief flooding him even if he had never visited the place himself. Once he entered, he was pleasantly surprised.

“Good night, sweetheart. I’d offer you win, it certainly looks like it’d be your taste, but I know better than to offer alcohol to you.” A wide, welcoming yet playful smile followed. “Now, tell me, to what do I owe the honor of finally getting a visit of the infamous Kitagawa-kun?”

He knew who she was immediately. Akira had never described her appearance in detail nor the fact that her gender was questionable at best. When talking about Lala-chan, there was only stern yet honest support, caring smiles and maternal investment. It didn’t matter what she looked like, in the end, Lala-chan was a heart of gold in the midst of merciless wolf. Her bar, an oasis in the desert that was Tokyo.

“Pardon me for the intrusion, Lala-chan. It is a great pleasure to finally meet you,” he said as he bowed, still standing in the entryway. Lucky enough for him, his relatively early arrival meant there were barely any patrons in the place and they were preoccupied enough with their problems and drinks to even mind his presence. As he straightened his back once again, he couldn’t help but want to clear a newly planted doubt in his mind, “May I ask, though, how did you recognize me with just a glance?”

A hearty laugh was her immediate reaction and it felt calming, “Even if Akira did come here mainly to talk to Ohya or to help comfort clients with chitchat, we had our own one-to-one sessions discussing you. I cannot tell you how many times he gushed over pictures of you. Well, he even showed me some of the most compromising stuff, which is cute really. You kids enjoying love for the first time; can’t blame him for wanting someone to brag about everything that had to do with you.” She grinned mischievously. “Though I do resent that he never brought you here with him. But now you’re here, so tell me, what can I do for you, hun?”

He trembled, “Lala-chan, I need answers.” She seemed to be expecting more, so he clarified, “Did you know Akira broke up with me?” For the first time, he noticed, he stated it more as a fact, with the trembling of his heart being slighter, less like a raw, searing pain and more like a cold, dry scab.

Lala-chan could only gape openly at Yusuke as an answer. “Well, now you know,” he stated battling the tantalizing lighting of the fire, _shame_ , that started spreading in his gut. “Oh, honey, are you alright? What happened? For the way I heard things were going, for one minute I dared think that maybe you two might just outright elope or something of the sort!” He smiles bitterly, goosebumps prickling in mourning. “I’m afraid that, as lovely as that sounds… As _Akira_ as that sounds, I’m not as sure about us as I was before the fact.” He sighs, heavy-hearted and honest with himself for the first time in months, “I know where he was coming from with that decision. He told me that he wanted me to learn to be independent, to not isolate myself, to learn to actually love myself, and he wants me to do that without him. He said-,” his throat constricts as if a snake has gotten a hold of him, “He said he doesn’t want to become a new Madarame to me. He wants me to be strong alone. And I’m grateful that he loves me that much, that he would put his feelings aside for my own wellbeing.”

Yusuke stares blankly in front of him, having only just realized there is a glass of what seems to be iced green tea on the bar in front of him and, unknowingly, he had been shredding the napkin that peaked underneath it. As he noticed, his fingers trembled. _“No wonder they’ve said I have autism. I cannot even look at her. I cannot even control myself.”_ He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, raises his eyes and carries on, “But I can’t help but wonder, could I still have healed by his side? Couldn’t he have helped me without cutting off the life-line I had? And now there’s this girl that was stalking me at first, then confessed, then became my friend, and I don’t know what to do about her because I don’t even know what to do about Akira. What I should do about _me!_ ” He startle himself to silence, then.

He is seething in this unknown place surrounded by strangers letting his heart be exposed like he never had before in public, not even when he broke down in a panic when first exhibiting “Desire”. But, well, he’s at least used to making a show of himself with his thick skin (and skull), his obliviousness. Lala-chan scoots the tea away and grasps his hands to ground him. He already admires the fact that she doesn’t prefer to kick him out from her establishment so he does not scare away other customers.

“Yusuke, darling, you know I can’t give you a mandate that will magically make everything perfect and clear, but let me help you through this. Let’s take a step back and reason it together.” Her smile at that moment reminds him of a small wall at the entrance of a café where the most important woman in his life smiles at him from beyond death. “We’ll go step by step from the beginning, because even with matters of the heart, the mind is our guide. Though, I have to admit, I’m gonna call for some extra insight. Hope you don’t mind, sweetheart. Trust me with this.” As she lets his hands go, a soundless sob forces out of his chest. They have not begun the long, tortuous process of introspection, but he already feels so much better. There _is_ an adult to talk to that is objective and has experience that can help him, and that fact alone lessens his burden.

He doesn’t know how many minutes pass, only that it hasn’t been very long, when Lala-chan returns with the other woman Yusuke had considered going to, “Chihaya-san! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I had actually meant to speak to you about my problem as well to get yet another perspective.” A tiny smile finally reaches him, “Though it seems Lala-chan had the same thought. Splendid!” The young lady looks as sweet and humble as Akira described when she greets him back, “I have seen and heard of you plenty, but I’m delighted to finally meet face to face, Yusuke-kun. I didn’t know when, but I had the feeling this was bound to happen. Though,” now a pout shows, “not under such sad circumstances. But! It would be my pleasure to help you!” Her accent actually makes him feel more comfortable yet, and now his rigid back relaxes.

Yes, things would finally start going well.

 

_…_

She kept dreaming about broadcasted deaths, scared teenagers, butterflies, black masks and blue rooms while she lay asleep among white sheets blossoming with red and pink crocodiles.


	16. BLOOMING IN THE DESERT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rising against adversity yields results. What kind, that’s for each to find.

They weren’t awkward, not one bit. Still, the distance was there, though no one else might notice or acknowledge it. _“Ryuji. Does the fact that I can’t stop thinking about you mean I feel the same?”_ She was glad this issue hadn’t reached a Yusuke-level drama, but she had to have an answer soon or it might become bad. Not that she thought Ryuji would insist, he probably only vents to Akira to clear his head and keep pretending nothing’s happened. No, it was her own heart that needed a response.

She had always felt that, even if only Shiho knew _all_ the contents of her heart and Akira had become a sort of confessional for her to come clean, she didn’t need to talk to Ryuji for the to be in tune with each other. Physical cues, like twitches, tapping, eye rolling, hair playing, shoulder leaning, and limb curling, so many little things they did that maybe most people didn’t notice rang loud to each other even from across dim rooms. And that’s without mentioning the verbal cues, including their unique brand of sarcastic affection.

Unlike most people that had to approach her and figure out (or not) what hid under the slowly peeling layers of her repressed and confused identity, Ryuji just got her. He didn’t attempt to dig into her and solve a puzzle. He just processed her at face-value and could immediately understand what was mask and what was her. Maybe because he had always lived with a very heavy mask, too.

Akira was a living enigma, a shifting, ethereal and fleeting being that could adapt. His masks were different. He took bits and pieces from everyone and everything around him. Ann and Ryuji, they had grown masks, against their wills and helped along with tiny fingers. They had to fall back to it. That’s why, very easily and quickly, her feelings for the alluring Joker faded, because they were never feelings that went beyond respectful (and physical) admiration.

She’d talked to Shiho, her soulmate, the sweet, open-hearted girl that had loved a boy that didn’t save her.

_“Shiho, how come you didn’t start hating Mishima even after what he let Kamoshida do.”_

_She smiled, “Because he was just like me. I couldn’t hate him because I understood him.”_

She understood Ryuji, she fearfully admired him, and she envied him, almost. How could he still have the strength to fight for others again and again when he had never tried or won a fight for his own sake. He was a hero to all, antagonized by those he helped, and he liked to ruin himself that way. If he broke himself, he would be invincible. _She hated him._ How dare he not value himself, how dare he let his mother’s only love be harmed, _how dare he forget about what he meant to her?_

She looked up to him, so why would he set such a bad example? Why did he insist on being so selfless?! Oh, boy, did she love him.

With tear streaks decorating her face and no makeup for them to ruin, she leapt, too.*

Ringing, ringing-.

“Yeah, hello?”

An inhalation of courage at the starting line.

“Ryuji-.” _I love you for being whom I’ve always wanted to be._

 

_…_

“So, Naoya was right?” Chihaya chuckles cheekily. Yusuke’s specific blend of personality has been nothing short of amusing to her. Bold and passionate, yet innocent and thick-headed. “Well, sweety,” Lala-chan begins through a covert puff of smoke, “from what little experience you have in understanding yourself in these kinds of situations, we can’t be sure of whether you are really starting to like this girl or not. And there’s nothing wrong in going or casually with friends. That’s how relationships start most of the time, you know? It’s kids these days that have messed up the usual order of things. With their casual sex with strangers or making out with friends and mixing up stuff that just makes everyone get all lost and hurt. In my opinion, going out and actually getting to know people will never get old or stop being valid. It’s just the best way of making sure of things.”

He was no longer shredding paper or twisting his fingers anxiously, but the nerves never left him, “I know she said I shouldn’t worry about what she feels, but I can’t help but think I’ll somehow lead her on, give her false hope, and break her heart.”

Chihaya rubbed his back to restore his patience, “Oh, the thing is: she ain’t with you, so she’s got nothin’ to lose, boy. Worst case scenario, you become real close friends. It’s worse when you ignore a girl.” She smiles with an air of nostalgia about her that Yusuke can somewhat connect to. “Better to have you in her life in some form than not havin’ you at all.”

He nods pensively. He understands that perspective; he had chosen to have Akira, even if they were hours, kilometers away and couldn’t see each other unless there were long breaks (and money available). He had chosen to stay apart for the best of their individual lives, but had attempted to have their love remain intact. He still wishes they could have that. Yes, he understands that. He can empathize now.

Lala-chan’s smile is subtle, yet full of meaning. “I can tell you got what we mean. That she feels towards you what you feel towards Akira. And, probably, what Akira feels towards you, still. Life’s like that Yusuke, dear. Tough decisions to be made, but love can be so strong, and in the end, love is all about wanting the other to be happy. So as long as you’re all happy, it’s okay.”

He frowned at that. There was still a loose end, at least from his part. “But I don’t know if Akira is happy…”

 

That night, Yusuke dreamt of black fabrics, a white smirk, and golden wings, all colliding in a confusingly messy collage that made his heart burn. Until.

_Enheduanna._

 

_…_

 

She kept dreaming about broadcasted deaths, scared teenagers, butterflies, black masks and blue rooms while she lay asleep among white sheets blossoming with red and pink crocodiles.

Her skin had become a messy canvas of red strands that twirled endlessly, yet connected nowhere. Not to her soulmate’s heart, not reality.

Missing school and living through bits and pieces, through flashes of light and dark, like fragments of stained-glass had rained down upon her body, leaving colorful cuts at random. Artistic, really.

And in the midst of the fog that enveloped her mind in a searing pain again, the same images appeared until ruins appeared. A cracked, black and white checkered floor, broken and collapsed golden pillars, it looked like the remains of a dome atop an infinitely tall tower. A butterfly in its center, cut in half in its center. And there she stood. She had never seen her, but her heart recognized her immediately.

A long, slender and elegant body of golden skin and a short dress made of ashen grey feathers that revealed long and thin bird talons that contrasted with her human arms. Wings spun of light sprouted from her back, where the plumage that cascaded black from her head flowed down, reminiscent of the wigs with which Cleopatra has been portrayed, decorated with a head piece that looked like the sun’s rays had speared stars at the end of its reach. And then her face. An owl with just one big, blue eye stared back at her.

Her beak opened with a trill while she hovered over her, “Will you continue to strum a song of torment to yourself or will you find the power to play masterpieces that narrate your triumph?”

Daí Yì trembled in place. Enheduanna landed and knelt to reach see straight into her eyes, “I will relent to speaking directly so my meaning is clear. Will you keep feeling sorry for yourself or will you fight to become someone worthy of Yusuke’s love and attention? I do think you already deserve him, but if you don’t believe it yourself, some changes might be in order. But those changes won’t miraculously happen.” Her wings fluttered down to a close, “And if you’re not willing to work on yourself, well, no matter how hard your friends help, they cannot take you all the way. You must put in your best efforts. So, what do you say? Want to try help yourself and the others instead of falling back again to your self-torture?”

Her one eye and beak were incredibly expressive, in spite of her lack of an eyebrow, her immense iris and the lack of lips to curve, but the soft smiles and the sharp glare were, indeed, noticeable. A bow, taller than the massive length of Enheduanna’s legs appears in her hands. It looks more like a harp than a bow, until a deadly arrow appears between its strings. “Or do you want me to resort to speaking with Goemon, perhaps?”

“Goemon?” At that, Enheduanna stands up straight, seemingly unsure, which is strange look for such a majestic being. “Oh! Right, you haven’t seen him. He is Yusuke’s Persona.”

“Please don’t embarrass me like that!” Then, her new friend seems to grin, “I won’t, so long as you stop you self-destructive behavior.”

“I’ll try,” her voice fades with uncertainty, but it’s something. “Thank you.” And her form disappears, as well as the dream, without her having noticed the butterfly and the fox that had been watching from behind a pillar.

“Daí Yì, have you stolen my heart in the way my mother stole Madarame’s?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *She leapt too. – Referencing Ryuji’s sprint and jump after Shido’s Palace.
> 
> Hoped you liked the RyuAnn. 
> 
> Also, please comment if this is getting too confusing or boring for you.  
> I will go back and read everything in one sitting once I reach chapter 18 or 20, but I'd like to know if someone feels like I'm dragging this on for too long.  
> Or if the way I'm handling the changing feeling from Yusuke's part could be better.


	17. WHEN INKHEARTS MEET

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two storylines merge into one, perhaps more than just storylines, but the black is its purest when we are alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shameless reference to my favorite book series? Check!
> 
> Though he is not in this chapter, this part is particularly important for Yusuke's future.
> 
> Happy birthday to the goodest boy who deserves ALL the love~!

The last day of August, and reality crept closer and undeniable.

_I have to face Yusuke._

_…_

_How can I even use Enheduanna to help?_

_I need coffee..._

And, so against all better judgement and the pricks of her numbed limbs and the burning of her skin’s wounds, she walked aimlessly looking for coffee and a place where she could play dead just for today.

Suddenly, her mind remembered the multiple mentions of a café her friends (Could she really call them that now? Yet?) frequented together. Leblanc.

And, yet again, in spite of her wish to make herself disappear, she headed for the apparent meeting place of the infamous Phantom Thieves, so it shouldn’t have come as such a huge surprise when she was met with the sight of the mess of curls she had come to memorize through Yusuke’s works laying on top of the bar’s counter and right next to a painting that looked like the _Sayuri_.

Her startled yelp was what actually gave her out and made her the focus of the spotlight. “Is everything okay, miss? I’ve never seen you before.” A man tilted his head from behind the wall next to the counter and regarded her curiously while stroking his goatee. “Are you his friend or did you get lost?” He chuckled warmly, “Or maybe you _are_ here for some coffee. Never mind, come in!” He waved her forward, trying to coax her out of the doorway and onto a stool, not knowing that his young companion was staring at her intensely, like how a cat examines its prey.

“U-u-uh… I-I’m not suuure if-!”

The barista chuckled again in amusement, “Nonsense! You’ve come all the way here. Whatever the reason you ended up here, it’s still worth it to take a break. One does not see many young people around Yongen-Jaya, much less, kids that aren’t already seen around here often.”

Under the inevitable scrutiny of the leader of the Thieves, she braced herself and entered, expecting an awkward interrogation, accompanied by confrontation and a coffee that might not taste bitter in the current tense atmosphere. Surely not even sugar in her drink could fix the mess she just walked into like a total idiot.

She asked for this.

Karma.

_I tailed Yusuke without his express consent for months!_

_Though it was his duty as my school guide, basically!_

_I mocked him and his feelings for this guy in a public school event!_

_Oh, my God! I mocked the leader of the Phantom Thieves and his boyfriend! Ex… *Sigh*_

_I confessed to his ex, became friends with his friends, got his friends to help me date him…_

_I promised to make the two of them go back to dating!_

_AAAAHHH!!!_

_…_

_Oh, my fucking GOD! Yusuke hugged me in front of Akira, and I had just technically met Akira, and Akira had looked sad and a bit angry! SHIT!_

A hand grasped one of her shoulders tightly and shook her. “Hey! Miss! Are you alright? You started shaking and you couldn’t even get on the stool. You need help..? Are you okay?”

_And now she made a fucking fool of herself in front of the man she envied._

“I’m not. But it’s fine. I’ll just-. Try again! Uhm.” As she finally managed to climb onto her seat (Yeah, she was short, but that was not the problem right now.) she stiffened up completely and stared directly forward.

“Okaaay~. So! What will you have? I have blends from all over the world, but I like to pair up coffee profiles according to the people. Since you’re new here, a couple questions answered can help me give you the best pick for you.”

“What kind of questions?” She asked while gripping the edge of the counter before her like she was trying to strangle it.

“Well, for starters, why are you here?” The man smirked widely and teasingly, totally meaning that he was going to get his answers from her whether she cooperated or not. And through this all, Akira just kept staring without any emotions playing on his face.

“Coffee.”

The barista laughed boisterously, but in a forced manner that made her feel ashamed. Caught in the lie. “Why are you really here?”

“Uhhh.” She sighed as she gave in. She could tell the old man would win in the end, so why not just let it happen? “Sad,” she whined as her body relaxed, and she melted on the counter.

“Mmm. What are you sad about?” At that, she shivered in fear. Akira would know. He could answer that one.

“Boy.”

The man sighed but let out a soft giggle under his breath. “Need to talk?”

She rolled her eyes. It was obvious. “Yaaah!”

Her whining earned her a head pat. “You know, you remind me of my daughter. Nervous wreck, overthinking, jittery and clumsy, can’t talk directly. Very cute.” He smiled sweetly down at her, and at that moment, Daì Yï forgot about the wanted teen next to her.

A chocolatey-smelling mug was laid down in front of her. “So, tell me, how is this boy and what has got you so worried about him?”

She cradled the mug between both hands and straightened her head so her chin was touching the counter while she brought both arms to surround it as she just lifted it the distance necessary to take a sip and go back to wallowing.

“Mmm, ‘tis good.” She smacked her lips. “Not him. Well, yes. But, right now, his boyfriend.”

He looked back at her from where he was rearranging the bean cans displayed on the selves behind the bar, one eyebrow rising and a quick glance of worry thrown towards the boy next to her before looking at her again. “His boyfriend, you say?” He turned around completely to lean on the counter, “So this boy you like is already taken?”

She nods sloppily, hitting her chin with every move of her head and gulps four times out of her mug. “Yuh, ‘s complicated. I like him, like, a lot, but I want him to be with his boyfriend. But his boyfriend wants him to work out some stuff first. So I want to make them kiss already, so I can just get broke and move on~!” She just whined and mumbled like the one time her parents let her drink alcohol back home, but this was just exhaustion and depression talking. And, oh boy, what will Akira do?

Even though she knew the group of friends would hang out here often, she did not foresee the barista before her actually being _close_ to them. But, fuck, when she saw hoe his eyes zoomed in to narrow his eyes at the curly kid, she knew. Shit. Finally, she turned to look back to meet his eyes.

His thief mask hid the beauty of the grayish black orbs that stared at her, and she thought that not even Yusuke’s masterpieces could render the gorgeous man before her accurately. Her breath got stuck in her throat. “Sojiro, could you ask Futaba not to tune in for a couple of hours?”

Sojiro was apparently the name of the barista, who knows Futaba, the girl who mysteriously got hold of her phone number and address weeks ago. And he was heading towards the door with a hat and a jacket on, a pack held tightly in his left hand.

“Yeah, I’ll watch her. I’ll leave you to it. See you later, kid.”

The source of her comfort vanished before the doorbell’s chime faded completely inside the café.

“So, Daì Yï, the girl of Moon arcana, care to explain why you plan to make me kiss Yusuke?”


	18. TWO-FACED FOOLS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How could they try and lie to one another when they were reflections of each other; just fools in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter (on purpose), but I hope to be posting the next tomorrow.  
> Re-reading the fic again from the beginning always gives me wicked inspiration.

“Because I think I love him.”

“Oh? That doesn’t make sense.” Akira chuckled sarcastically, “You mean to hand over the guy you like to the one who broke up with him before and not even try to win him over? Do you think I’m stupid? You must be lying or very idiotic.”

Daì Yï clenched her fists tightly beside her before stomping towards the relaxed figure of the lanky boy that had stood up just behind her intimidatingly. She managed to make him retreat into the back of one of the many booth seats in the café. “I don’t think that breaking up with him so suddenly was the right thing to do. You hurt him a lot. And I know you meant well, but maybe by helping him see what needed fixing, he could have become better with you, instead of having you abandon him when he’s struggling most.”

Akira frowns, and now she does feel fearsome. “What do you know aside from what the media published and the rumors the students have spread? It’s not like you were here in Japan in the first place for you to be able to judge whether I’m wrong or right. Who do you think you are trying to interfere in our relationship?”

“Ha! There! You see?! _Our_ relationship!” She points at his face with determination transforming her posture, “You still feel something for him-!”

He grits his teeth while his nostrils flare and his eyes become watery, “I know that, _he knows that!_ I told him I still loved him, but he has to learn to love himself first so our love won’t hurt him!”

Silence.

“I… didn’t know that,” she whispers with shame and regret. “But that’s more of a reason to be with him.” She stares with knitted eyebrows and a burning gaze. “Yeah, he’s doing better, but it’s clear that he wants your help.”

He turns around and moves away and towards the stairwell at the far back of the café. “This is my way of helping him, to offer a way out before he becomes trapped by me.” He climbs the stairs, effectively communicating that the conversation is over.

Or so he thought.

“I can’t believe you! Fine, then! See how this feels!” She yells, and the pitch of her voice might just be what has his heart breaking the next moment. “I will try to steal him away from you, then, He will be mine. And I’ll make him stop with his silly paintings of you. _I_ will be the one to fill all of his blank canvases. It will be my eyes staring back from his work. It will be my eyes that will occupy his thoughts. Just you see! I won’t let you win. He will be free, he will be his own self, but he will change _with me_.”

He turns around and his heart jump starts again. She has stolen his breath.

And Joker becomes awake in him. “Let’s see you try, then. You seem like a worthy rival.” He extends his hand towards her, and she responds with a firm grip that wraps around his heart, “I will see you fail,” He leans down next to her ear, “And that fire in your eyes will be mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwehehehe~! ←～（o ｀▽´ )oΨ 
> 
> ψ(｀∇´)ψ


	19. WHAT THE NIGHT HAS KEPT QUIET

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only the walls have listened to the whispers let out into the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this chapter based on two prompts to guide the next course of action.  
> Woops, that didn't happen.   
> Every meaningful part I've planned for the story has slowly shown up, just not in the order I'd planned.   
> So, have some early-set rants that postpone inevitable meetings.

She walked dazedly back home.

_Did I do the right thing? To blurt out my frustrations and challenge him? I know he means well, but…_

“Yusuke needs _someone_.” _If only for the time being, to let him heal and not keep being pull down by grief._

“Ideally, his parents would-.”

“Daí Yì? Nà shì nǐ ma?” She jolted out of her hazy thoughts with the familiarity of the words.

“Haru? Konbanwa.” She hadn’t realized where she was, but luckily she had grown somewhat accustomed to certain areas and had automatically headed towards the nearest train station. “What’s wrong, Daí Yì? And what are you doing at the opposite end of the city? Did you get lost, perhaps?”

So sweet of her to be so concerned. “No, just browsing the area to see what’s up. Why are you here? It’s kinda far from your place, too.” Haru seemed to relax at her answer and offered a kind smile, “Visiting a friend. He’s just staying for a couple of days, so I have to make the best of the time he has available.”

A twinge of guilt makes her falter in place a lower her eyes, “W-well, that’s good. See you around, then.” She did all to not break into a run, walking as fast as she could trying to not alarm her friend. But even the single year of advantage she had over the rest of her friends gave her the merit of being keener to perceive others’ anxiety. Well, that and her being brought up in the midst of affluent business figures that carefully fabricated their every gesture. _Akira, was it you?_

The bell jingled, welcoming her yet again. “-Looked tense. So she’s the girl Futaba has had her eye on. Urm, you okay, kiddo? Must be tough to see things moving so fast around you. Wish life itself could take a breather to let people catch up with it, y’know? Especially considering that living hours away doesn’t let you be in the know, like before.”

“Pardon my intrusion, boss. Akira, welcome back,” she offered a sad smile, knowing that this greeting would be received with a hint of bitterness from her friend’s jumbled-up heart. But he sighed in relief and offered one of his rare, genuinely warm smiles as he stood to quickly embrace her. “Hi, Haru. So good to see you. You couldn’t have come at a better time.” They stepped away from each other with their mutual fondness washing over them. “Oh, really? I actually had my doubts about coming unannounced. Especially after bumping into Daí Yì-chan.”

The experience they had acquired as Phantom Thieves had taught them plenty about masking their reactions in the face of uncertainty and peril, yet Haru could identify the tell-tale signs of discomfort of all her friends without a hitch. “Do you want to talk?” Old habits die hard, so it was to no surprise, but all the nostalgia, that she saw him rub his nape and roll his neck and shoulders before settling back into a stool. “Sure need it. Was talking with boss to get some insight.”

She slid onto the seat next to him and found a mug of the house blend already waiting in front of her.

.

.

.

“This is difficult. I see sense in both Daí Yì-chan’s and your arguments. While Yusuke really needs to stop depending on others, the way you ended things and tried to explain yourself was completely ungentlemanly, uncouth, especially for someone with Yusuke’s sensibilities. And I know you did this to cut off the pain right then, but that’s not how things work.” She stared at him harshly, hoping that she could convey how bothered she had felt with his brashness. “It still would’ve hurt, but you should have waited until you saw him in person to discuss things. You should have discussed things with him before taking any action, actually!”

Sojiro glanced between them with worry, expecting the tense atmosphere to vanish once the topic was finally dropped later. “She’s right kid. You should’ve thought about how we would take it. And breaking up by text I think just made it worst. You should’ve seen him.” He slowly turned to face the painting next to the counter. “It was as if his mother had died all over again or something.” Sojiro shook his head solemnly, “At the very least, you should have asked for help from us or warned us to be able to brace ourselves and stop that stupid boy from doing something totally like him.”

Akira clenched his fingers closed, almost trying to dig through his palms. His shoulders shook, “I was scared! I-. Futaba was telling me how he barely met up with anyone, how he had holed himself again without eating properly and just painting his days away. Ann had told me before that he kept painting only _me_. And then Futaba went and told me about this stalker girl who confessed to him with a poem!” He turned and thrust his chin towards Sojiro in an angry gesture, “And then _you_ told me he had even stopped visiting _the Sayuri_ and that maybe I should move back, and I was trying, but it was too much! I can’t keep running away and be a hypocrite full of doubts when my boyfriend needs someone better!”

_Oh, Akira…_

This is the first time that either of them have seen tears grace Akira’s skin. It feels like a reality check, soul-crunching, yet liberating. He has finally allowed himself to be a vulnerable teen weighed down with the burden of everyday problems. No up-kept paranoia over potential murderers, no calculative guarding against would-be allies in-the-making, no omissions or lies to keep others at a distance.

“I’m glad to see you truly love Yusuke so much. Though I’m sad to know that your wish for him to become independent stems from your own doubts about your own self-image. Then again, you have always hid behind a mask, in one way or another.” A small hand fall upon his shoulder and squeezes gently. “If anyone deserved to listen to this confession of yours, to see you cry, to comfort you and get rid of your doubts, that was Yusuke. But now… Even though he still loves you, he finally _has_ gotten somewhat better. So I think your initial plan of having each of you sort your own dilemmas should continue. It’s for the best. It would be bad to hold him back now.”

An almost imperceptible nod clears helps him clear his own mind. “Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dunno if you guys can tell, but I love Haru. x3


	20. WHEN TRUTHS COLLIDE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A clash of demons, each holding their own worldviews to their chest until they bleed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not long, but it feels like it.

He’s come to terms with certain truths. He’s wants Akira back, but doesn’t feel like every breath is killing him. He wants to be closer to Daí Yì, but not enough for her to have to use her Persona for their sakes. He wants to know more about his parents, but he first needs to have a talk about his meeting with Madarame with someone else. Some venting was in order.

Naturally, his mother had to be the first to listen to his thoughts.

“Oh! H-hey, kid! Long time no see!” Ah, last they’d seen each other, Yusuke had taken possession of his living room for days. His grief had not allowed his mind to be occupied by propriety, but his utter need for comfort. Well, this was awkward. “Pardon my intrusion, boss. It’s been some time, yet I must once again thank you for the support and hospitality you offered to me in my- ah, time of need. Today, I suppose, I felt in need of something similar to parse my thoughts. I came to visit her.”

Sojiro still seemed somewhat tense. Yusuke suspected thought better to handle the situation as if he was made of glass; sometimes his close acquaintances forgot how much he could take, how much he had already been through. He was strong, and to have others teeter carefully just served to irk him. But, Sojiro meant well. He guessed he could give him a pass this time around.

“If I may,” he produced a flower bouquet; the white camellias had remained pristine in spite of the walk.

“Oh! You had never brought offerings before,” Sojiro smiled that special way that reminded him of Akira. They might not be family, but they had the same kind of gentle hearts. They were kindred spirits of sorts, as Sojiro had once stated when explaining how much the quiet boy reminded him of himself when he’d been young. “I will bring out a vase for you to put on the counter right next to her.”

“You have my thanks.” Sojiro just waved at him dismissively, “Drop the formalities, Yusuke. You know you’re among family here. I’ll just fill it up for you so those won’t wilt.” His stomach rumbled, at an inconvenient time, at an inconvenient volume, like always. “I’ll also grab some curry for you, while I’m at it.” The lightness in boss’s tone made his heart wrench uncomfortably.

He took the stool closest to the entrance and mumbled as usual, no need to feel shame here where Sojiro knew him so well, in the corner of his mind where he could give clarity to his experiences. “I have yet to put a name to your face. I hope I will soon. But know that I’ve always been sure of your love towards me. Knowing the truth has not changed that fact, it has just given me factual reasons to understand how you loved me, and father, too.” He studied the strokes he had memorized with every vein in his body. “May I say I miss you, even when I have no recollection of even your voice? But I do. I truly miss you-.”

“Yusuke?”

The flowers stood tall in a ceramic vase, a plateful of curry was steaming, lying in wait alongside a cup of coffee. _Ah, I’ve gone mad with nostalgia._

A finger dragged superficially across his lower lashes. “Yusuke?”

_Hmm, interesting, my imagination has improved. I wonder, why am I crying again?_

His stool turned forcefully, messing with his center of gravity.

He falters initially, but he is strong. **He is strong.**

“Mmm, sorry, I was only remembering my visit to Madarame. Did you know Madarame started his work as a private arte teacher to help my mother raise money to survive during her pregnancy? He began with the sole purpose of helping her get by after having widowed, so I could be taken care of, and so she wouldn’t forego taking the medications she needed. Isn’t life strange?”

The hands that had spun his life let go of him (like before). “Yes, it is. Many things seem to happen when we try to avoid them. Some are coincidences, some are… Did you find out anything good about her?”

Yes, it was better this way. To play at denial, to pretend nothing had been and nothing could be. Just a couple, no, just two strangers sitting at a café and making small talk. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing overtly meaningful. He could not handle anything more right now.

“He had been teaching at his former university. She had been his best student. Months passed during which she had not attended classes. He later found her pregnant trying to sell paintings near the train station in Shibuya. My father had died of a seizure, they met in the hospital, suffered from the same illness. She had been disinherited for wanting to study art after she collapsed in public and had no way to pay her medical bills. He was there as a patient, and he offered his help. And Madarame took her as if she was his daughter. My father died cleaning windows, trying to earn money with several small jobs to maintain my mom and me. I was born when my mother was under Madarame’s tutelage in the shack along with others. Paying for my needs was difficult and her health kept worsening. He decided that a newly begun life was more precious than-. And he let her-. And he stole the painting she was made as a farewell to me, knowing she was too sick to continue on. The painting she had denied him for financial gain, the painting she’d meant to be in my possession and my possession only! And slowly everything came about having more and more money and less about extending a hand to others, unless it was to take selfishly, greedily, starving for the fame and fortune he had not acquired in his prime.”

A sob split his frame from the seams. “And I still don’t know their names. Her memento is Sayuri, while they just remain “father” and “mother”. But I don’t-. I don’t know how to bear, how to-.”

No matter how quiet his words were, everything about Akira demanded attention and his hungry self drank it all in, “But can you bear never knowing? Take some time to brace yourself, but when you feel steady enough, you go and get what is rightfully yours. He _should not_ be allowed to keep robbing you of your mother and you _cannot_ keep tolerating his manipulation.”

Stillness, a frame frozen in time. Many things paused at that moment.

“I understand. Thank you for lending an ear, and thank the boss for the treat, but I-.”

The silhouette next to him shifted and retreated, “Finish it or I’ll tell him to force you. I’m just going to water my plant.”

 

_And try not to think of how she’ll be there to help you through it much more than I can._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The clash is starting.


	21. SHELTERED HEARTS, EXPOSED PROMISES

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anything can break under enough pressure.

“This is my chance!” The tiny red-haired girl screaming in the middle of the street didn’t catch anyone’s attention. Not for a lack of loudness, neon attire, or choppy movements; it was just her lack that Tokyo was so saturated that she became just another speck in the mass, another zero among the ones. Following her GPS tracker intently, she glided between people, like children do between adults’ legs. She was determined to complete this dangerous mission because if she kept holding back her interference, she would definitely blow a neuron or something. She was getting sick and tired of all the slow-paced bullshit happening around her.

 _Like, even Ryuji and Ann got around to finally do things! And it was them, the densest and most clueless of the lot when it came to feelings._ For all that Yusuke could be slow and awkward, he’d been shamelessly blunt when coming on to Akira ( _points to him for proving her totally wrong on her calculations_ ). But how things were going, Yusuke was either only really open about liking guys or he definitely was a fluke; Akira may have been just a happy coincidence of self-confidence and Daí Yì was a Ruby on Rails level of challenge for a dude that barely got the hang of HTML and basic CSS.

Of course, she knew Akihabara well enough, but she has to focus to not just walk away into stores to window-shop like usual. She has to be respon-. _Did she just walk into a videogame store? Was she aware she was being tailed and planned for the perfect bait to make her hyperactive mind go on a tangent and-. Ooh~! New releases! No! No! Nope. Futaba, FOCUS! Where? Did? She? Go? Dammit._ She was still in the building, but she didn’t know what part of it she was browsing. _Uh._

 _Okay, calm down, breathe. What would a nerd like? Puzzles?_ After a while of wandering around with a mild case of hyperventilation slowly building up to an anxiety attack, she could finally recover her breath when she saw her target staring at the RPG section. _Ah, right, the storytelling and first-person perspective is a very bookworm thing to like. Can’t blame her._

She drew in a breath and held it while she puffed her cheeks and her face turned slightly purple at the strain. Once she was finally close enough to this mostly-stranger, she tapped her shoulder and let out a rapid-fire jumble of words in a single breath that left her gasping when she was done.

“Excuse me? I’m not very fluent. Could you please talk slower?”

“Oh! Right, I forgot about that. Hi, Daí Yì, I’m Futaba, one of Yusuke’s friends, the one who texted you back then, hahaha! Anyway, I heard you talking to Akira – he is like a brother to me – Sojiro is my dad, by the way, the old man at the café – and I’ve been very close to Yusuke – he is also like a brother, the annoying weirdo type that you can’t help but feel protective for – and I’m worried about this whole love triangle, but not actually a triangle, that you guys got going there.”

Even though their height difference was a mere two inches, Futaba felt slightly unnerved by the girl’s staring. Was this a live simulator to empathize with bugs being observed by entomologists? Goat simulator’s better. No judgment there. “Um. Okay… I don’t understand, what did you hear?”

“Oh God, what you talked about at the café! I know everything.” She announced smugly while going through the Featherman poses as subtly as she could in public. This time, she received a frown, though. _Looks like she finally got it._ The foreigner’s no-nonsense stare made her proud and concerned at the same time. “Come with me.” Oh shit, now she was going to be “disappeared” by the Taiwanese mafia. Welp.

What a crappy Sunday to have for her last day of vacations.

Suffice to say, she felt dumbstruck since the moment they had begun taking the lines towards Yongen. The chick didn’t know that she lived there, but the confusion at being taken to the scene of the crime didn’t dissipate until her kidnapper finally spoke again.

“Boss, you should keep a close eye on your daughter. She’s been stalking me via technology,” Daí Yì turned to look at her with an annoyed expression, “I at least had the decency to stalk Yusuke in person and without trying to hide, though it isn’t any less shameful. But, still! You have gotten my personal information and I’m scared of how much you know and what you’ll use the info for.”

The barista, Sojiro, as she remembered Futaba mentioning, rolled his eyes and sighed wearily like this was a common occurrence, as if it was the most normal thing to have a dangerous teen hacker under one’s roof. “Futaba, what exactly did you do this time.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose while she buffed up her stats. “So, when Yusuke showed us that she was watching him in the diner, I got her student profile. That’s where I got her address and number and the few things I know about her family and her nerdiness. And then I heard her and Akira talking-.”

_“Futaba, I told you that Akira asked you to not eavesdrop on Leblanc!”_

“And I got worried because they’re both basically fighting over Yusuke, only that Akira is _not_ actually fighting, but just crossing his arms and watching full of doubt and wondering whether this girl _will_ be able to romance Yusuke. And Inari is so fucking clueless and might just keep complicating stuff while he’s being pined over, and I don’t know who I want to win, and-.”

Sojiro’s hand over her head grounded more than a hammer in Super Bash Bros. could ever have. “I’m worried, too, Futaba. And I know you’re trying to be a good friend and sister, but we can’t force them to do anything. But, you can listen to them and try to give advice _without_ trying to control things, okay?” He pushed her head back gently so she could see the smile he offered. “So, what do you say about a hot chocolate for each of you while you ‘girl-talk’, huh?”

She couldn’t help but pout at that, “Come on, dad! Don’t call it that!” Her whine and her use of “dad” was enough of a message for now, a promise that she’d cling to him like a koala when they were home. And when she saw how he grinned while taking out the mugs at the kitchen, she knew he had gotten it.

.

.

.

What had started like an interrogation about Daí Yì’s feelings for Yusuke (peppered with Futaba’s comments) and what she thought about Akira has steadily drifted off course to them just casually talking about the things each liked.

“I only ever watched the original Featherman show. I still have the SNES game back home, but I’ve never been very patient when it comes to following spin-offs of any kind, no matter how much I like the show or whatever. I think I can count the spinoffs I actually got into.”

“I’m glad at least you’re not like Yusuke, being all ignorant about anything that’s not art. He even goes to watch movies and doesn’t retain all the plot and he definitely doesn’t pay attention to the characters, just their clothes. I’ve kinda been helping to ease him into pop culture, but his tunnel-mind is very hard to get through.”

Daí Yì thought her statement over more carefully than she expected, “Maybe you should learn just a bit about what he likes so you know how to get him interested in what you like. Introducing him to new topics might be easier if your approach is in line with his way of thinking.” She closed her eyes, nodding sagely, and comparing her to a tutorial NPC was an easy thing at the moment. “Imagine introducing him to a BL manga, for example. You know that the story might eventually grasp his attention because he may find a moment he relates to, but it’s better to tell him that the linework and how the anatomic poses, in regards to the text, have been praised by fans and other mangakas.” Daí Yì smiles impishly, “It’s only until you’ve got him hooked that you can start pointing out the other fortes of what you show him.”

 _Wow, she’s sneakier than I thought._ “That… is actually a great idea! If I get him into the art bullshit first, then I can help him like the other aspects, too!” She exclaimed, pumping her fists into the air in celebration. “Yeah. It’s the same with me. I mostly get into stuff because of the story or lyrics, not always, though.”

The bell chime mixed with Futaba’s laughter. “Oh! What a pleasant surprise! Though, I wonder, am I intruding?”

Futaba could recognize that smooth baritone and elder-level formality with her eyes closed, “Inari! We were talking about you!” She greeted him with sincere joy, but Yusuke had learned a lot from past interactions. He moved his bag to bug it defensively over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Daí Yì, I beg you do not believe any of her calumnious hyperboles. She loves to mock me at any opportune chance she gets.”

While Futaba complained loudly (and Sojiro complained about her noise), Daí Yì just smiled brightly, “She was just telling me how great of a brother figure you are. That you used to escort her often so she wouldn’t be alone in crowds. That’s very nice of you.”

Yusuke blushed in his flustered state and shifted from foot to foot, his heart quickened slightly in what he thought was a very embarrassing and familial moment. “I-I just did what anyone would have.”

Daí Yì lifted an eyebrow teasingly, “But no one else did it, right?”

Futaba laughed at his sudden shyness, “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t want her to know you can be a gentleman when you actually want to?”

He gaped like a fish out of water. “N-Nonsense! Boss, could I have some curry to go?”

And then the three were laughing at his expense. He turned to leave. “No, no, no! None of that, Yusuke. Last time you came you were too sad to talk. Come on, take a seat, take your time while you eat, _remember to chew not only swallow_. Have some fun with us, for a change. Besides,” Sojiro pushed on, “Your friend here needs some cheering up of her own, so might as well stick around.”

He could not say no to free food, Sojiro knew that. But as it turned out, Yusuke found himself not able to say no to family, to smiles.

 

…

 

“Remember! Next Saturday, my house, snacks, anime marathon! Bring your picks so we can choose!” Futaba waved excitedly while Sojiro locked up. “Okay, promise!” Daí Yì waved back at her just as emphatically while Yusuke nodded with a small smile.

“I’ll walk you home.” She was startled by the offer. “No need, it’s faster for you to take the lines directly to Kōsei or you might cut too close to the time the trains stop running.” He huffed indignantly and rolled his eyes while he imperceptibly walked closer to her side. “Nonsense! I’d rather see you safely to your doorstep. Besides, I enjoy walking, so missing the trains is no bother.” She relented with a sad smile, “Fine, but remember that it’s still dangerous for you too. If you do end up walking, go through the busy streets, make sure it’s well lit, and message me when you’re home.”

He smiled warmly at her genuine concern, “How about, I call you and we talk through all my way back?” He looked down at the smile she tried to hide away along her blushing cheeks. “Deal.” He nodded and they got on the first of the trains that’s take them to Kanda.

After a while of sitting silently next to each other, Daí Yì finally spoke, “You’re a great guy, Yusuke, maybe too much. You’re sometimes so good that you forget yourself. I wish you could remember to make yourself happy the most.”

He hummed in acknowledgment. Old habits were hard to get rid of. “Back at you. Stop belittling yourself and realize that the people that surround you have chosen to do so because of who you are, not out of pity. Futaba took a liking to you real quick, and I can tell you from firsthand experience that only I have ever managed to do so as easily as you. Though I admit I did not try to befriend her on purpose. Ann said that we just clicked, that we’re naturally compatible.” He shrugged.

The silence returned, but it bothered neither of them.

Once they finally arrived at her apartment building, Yusuke’s heart caught up to his mind. “Thank you. For today and every other day before this. You have been nothing but good and patient with me.”

Daí Yì shook her head sadly, “That’s not true. I yelled at you at the last exhibition.”

Yusuke reached for her hands and held on, “No, you pointed out the truth that all my friends had tried so insistently for me to see, but it was only until you spoke it to me that it had any impact at all. If not for you, I would have felt even worse than I did when Akira broke up with me.”

He squeezed her hands in his, “And you have also been great to my friends and have had the best of intentions to help me. Thank you, really.”

In a flash, the hands that he had been grasping turned to tangle their fingers with his in a promise, “I’m here for you.”

The response he gave her was unexpected, but at that moment, Enheduanna had notched her first arrow towards his icy heart.

It lands true.

And the warmth on her cheek does not only come from her blush but the grace of lips upon her skin.

“Good night, Daí Yì. I will call you as soon as I get on a train or as soon as I see if there aren’t any running. Please, answer.”

And he turns, made a ball of fire, his skin singed by the heat of his blood and the marathoning of his heart.

 

20 minutes later, her phone rings and her grin still maintained its size, “Hello?”

“Daí Yì, I indeed missed the last train, but I enjoy the view of people sharing meals at this hour. It’s a very intimate time of the night and many couples share the stories of their day with their significant others.” He grins, too, and wishes that he message is being conveyed clearly.

_Let’s do the same._

And they don’t hang up until he is inside his room, which is filled with his heartbeat and moonlight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to have some angst, but my life is angsty enough, so I forced myself to write fluff.
> 
> Hope the pacing still makes sense. I think I'm overthinking about when it would be realistic for Yusuke to feel something...
> 
> So, if you have an opinion about this, please share in the comments!


End file.
